"LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

■ ^opansM ||o I 




MISCELLANEOUS SERMONS 



OF THE LATE 



REV. PROF. ELEAZAR T. FITCH, D.D. 



Jxtst Series. 



o,L. 4 1 



SERMONS. 



PRACTICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE, 



PREACHED IN THE PULPIT OF 



YALE COLLEGE. 



BY 



REV. ELEAZAR T. FITCH, D.D., 

Livingston Professor of Divinity from 1817 to 1852. 



-He being dead yet speaketh. 




NEW HAVEN. 
JUDD AND WHITE 

1871. 



-2^72 35 



Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year 1871, 

BY LUCIUS W. FITCH, 
in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



PRESS Of TUTTLE, MOREHOUSE 8. TAYLOR, NEW HAVEN, CONfc. 



PREFACE. 



This volume is issued in response to the urgent request of a number 
of my father's friends and admirers ; and its publication is doubtless 
looked for by many others. 

The sermons selected are such as, from the subjects and the mode of 
their treatment, were quite generally valued at the time of their delivery. 
And accordingly it appears eminently appropriate to commit them to 
the press ; not only for the sake of those persons, among whose most 
sacred memories their words yet linger, and who will greet them as long 
absent friends, returned again ; but also, that productions, thus proved 
by the concurring opinions of so many competent judges to possess the 
elements of a permanent influence, may reach a wider public, and 
accomplish larger results of good. 

It may be proper to observe, that the selection is based chiefly, upon 
the special mention of particular sermons in cordial and encouraging 
letters of friends, received since my father's death, or upon the sugges- 
tions of judicious advisors at hand. 

Should this volume be favorably received, I may follow it with 
another series of the same general character. 

LUCIUS W. FITCH. 
New Haven, July, 1871. 



CONTENTS. 



The Word of God the Guide to Happiness in this Life. A Bac- 
calaureate Sermon. [1826] 1 

The Evil of Sophistry on Moral Subjects. - [1846] 17 

The Destructive Influence of the Transgressor in a College. [1827] 33 

The Good Portion that is Never Taken Away. - [1831] 49 

The Power of Trust in God to establish the Heart against the 

Force of Evil. -___-__ [1840] 67 

The Trial of Abraham. -------- [1846] 85 

The Privilege of Union to God and his People, chosen. - [1835] 105 

Raising from the Dead the Son of the Widow at Nain. - - [1846] 119 

The Scene of the Transfiguration. - [ T 84o] 133 

The Ignorance of Man respecting the Good or Evil of his Tem- 
poral Lot. A Baccalaureate Sermon. - [1845] 149 

No Continuing City here. _______ [1821] 161 

On Seeking a Continuing City to come. - [1821] 175 

Christ Precious to Believers. ______ [1816] 189 

No Order in the Grave ; or, The Wisdom of God in the manner 

of executing Temporal Death. - ^840] 201 

The Death of John the Baptist. - [1846] 217 

The Righteous in their Immortality to live within the Scenes 

of a Material Universe. [1840] 235 



Vlll. 

The Purchase of the Truth. A Baccalaureate Sermon. - [1846] 255 

No Refuge from Condemnation but Christ. - - - [1831] 271 

The Duty of reproving the Works of Darkness in Sinners. [1824] 289 

The Cause of Jehovah against Baal, tried before Israel at the 

Altar of Sacrifice. ------- [1846] 299 

The Ascension of Jesus. _.__--_ [1846] 319 

The Wisdom of God in the Appointment of Death to our Race. [1839] 335 

Worshiping God in the Beauty of Holiness. - [1847] 353 



GOD'S WORD MAN'S CHIEF JOY IN THIS PRES- 
ENT TIME. 



[A BACCALAUREATE SERMON.] 



PSALM CXIX : 54. 

Thy statutes have been my songs in the house of my pilgrimage. 

From the lives of others we may derive lessons of prac- 
tical wisdom at the very commencement of our own. 
While yet the morning of youth is beaming on us, and 
we are looking forward to a long day of anxiety and toil 
on the earth, we may hear from the lips of the aged the 
recital of their experience, or read in the volumes of the 
dead their yet surviving testimony ; warning us of the 
dangers we are to shun, and pointing out to us the true 
paths of peace and prosperity. 

I have now read to you the testimony of a pious mon- 
arch in Israel, respecting his own life, which he recorded, 
for the praise of Jehovah and for the benefit of succeeding 
generations ; in which you hear the voice of experience, 
testifying to you the sotirces of happiness which exist for 
the consolation of man amidst the mutabilities of the pres- 
ent world. This monarch, near the close of his eventful 
life (as it has been generally supposed), surveys the past ; 
recalls the events of fleeting years through which he has 
journeyed, — a stranger on a pilgrimage in the earth ; re- 
counts the days of affliction and prosperity that have 
rolled over him ; and, in grateful acknowledgment, testi- 
fies unto God that his statutes have illuminated his dwell- 
ing with its brightest joys and consolations, which, in 
days of prosperity were prized by him beyond " thou- 
sands of gold and silver ;" and without which, in days 
of darkness, he " had perished in his afflictions;" which 
had ever afforded him themes of grateful meditation ; 

2 



God's Word Man s Chief Joy in this Present Time. 



guided him in the conduct of life ; inspired his confidence 
and hope ; rapt his spirit in the composition of devotional 
songs ; and caused his tabernacle to resound with the 
glad voice of praise and joy: — " Thy statutes have been 
my songs in the house of my pilgrimage." The experi- 
ence of the Psalmist, to which he has testified in this 
declaration affords to all, this salutary lesson for the reg- 
ulation of their lives : — that THE WORD OF God IS THE 
ONLY GUIDE TO TRUE HAPPINESS AMID THE CHANGES OF 
THIS WORLD. 

In inculcating this truth, I purpose to consider, partic- 
ularly, some of the sources of joy which the word of God 
offers to man amid the changes of this life. This train of 
remark may serve at once to show us on what the happy 
experience of David was founded, and how we are to 
transfuse the same experience into our own lives. 

In order, then, to set before you the fountains of joy 
which the statutes of Jehovah open to man in this life, I 
remark, 

I. That, amid all the changes of time, they present to 
his meditations the same God of unclouded excellence. 

Man is a contemplative being ; but in his busy contem- 
plation he finds no resting place within the limits of 
created things. He surveys, indeed, with pleasure, the 
wonders of creation which surround him ; he explores 
with delighted vision and study, the world of his habita- 
tion and the worlds which glitter upon him from the 
firmament ; but from all these lower objects of creation, 
his mind instinctively rises to that Eternal Spirit from 
whom they proceeded, who guides all by his wisdom and 
hath established over all his throne in the heavens. I say, 
ijistinctively, — for the disruption of his soul from God, 
which afflicts fallen man, is a strange violence done to his 
nature. 

Now it is the statutes and testimonies of Jehovah, which 
present to the contemplations of man the brightest exhi- 
bitions of his infinite glory. While we gaze on the aston- 
ishing exhibitions of his power and intelligence which 
meet us from the works of his creation and providence, 



God's Word Man s Chief Joy in this Present Time. 



his word comes to address us more fully ; to explain his 
designs ; and to make known, beyond a doubt, the attri- 
butes of his will. Benevolence, righteousness, mercy, 
truth, in one unclouded sun of glory, beam upon us from 
his throne ; and assure us of his perfect claims to the ven- 
eration, homage, praise, obedience, and confidence of all 
on earth and in heaven. In the law which he has ordained 
for his moral kingdom, in conformity to which he con- 
ducts all his works of providence, government, and re- 
demption, we read his heart of benevolence ; and find 
him a being worthy to be contemplated with supreme 
delight during every stage of our endless existence, — a 
being with whom the spirit can hold a communion in 
intelligence and love, forever improving and brightening. 

What a fountain of joy is here opened to man amid the 
changes of time ! Whatever events betide him, from the 
mount of prosperity or the vale of sorrow and trial, he 
may look up alike to the unclouded excellence of his God 
and King. Leaving out of view his own humble interests, 
he may look to him who is unchangeably glorious on the 
throne, conducting all things with a goodness, righteous- 
ness, and purity forever untarnished, and, absorbed with 
delightful contemplations, be lost, as it were, in the glory 
of his Maker. Whether the cup of joy or affliction be 
administered to him, he opens the statutes of Jehovah 
and sees the same God of Glory on the throne, worthy as 
ever to be loved and praised by his creatures ; and he 
can mingle with every blessing and trial of his earthly 
lot, as did David, the song of praise : " the Lord reigneth, 
let the earth rejoice." 

Man, I say, may derive this joy from the statutes of 
the Lord. They place before his meditations, the un- 
changing and untarnished excellence of his King ; and 
assure him, beyond all the darkness and doubts that might 
otherwise hang over this life's pilgrimage, that God is 
just and good and pure, in all his doings in his kingdom. 

How much joy and peace and consolation, derived from 
this source, have cheered and brightened this vale of 
tears is fully known only to the eye of Omniscience. But 



God's Word, Man s Chief Joy in this Present Time. 



if you would learn its exalted nature, go to David, Isaiah, 
Paul; Newton, Bacon, Locke, Hale, Edwards; rapt with 
the inspiring contemplation : and see what themes have 
illuminated and expanded their minds beyond all the dis- 
coveries of the heathen, and which have mingled with 
their earthly lot the joys of brighter worlds ! The lan- 
guage of one is the language of all : " O how love I thy 
law, it is my meditation all the day." 

Another fountain of joy opened to man by the statutes 
of Jehovah, I mention, 

II. That amid all the changes of time, they administer 
to him one perfect rule of action. 

Man is an active being ; formed to resolve and execute, 
and to affect himself and others by the course of his con- 
duct. But in his conduct he finds not his rest in attempt- 
ing to please himself and his fellow-beings merely. In 
order to his highest happiness he needs to commence and 
terminate his activity in God, the fountain of all being ; 
to be directed and quickened by the authority of that 
wise and perfect Being who watches over his own glory 
and the good of his kingdom with ceaseless care, and to 
be employed in fulfilling the plans of his goodness and 
mercy. 

Now it is through his statutes that he uses his wisdom 
and authority in guiding the conduct of men ; and that 
he employs them as his servants in executing the works- 
of his benevolence. These statutes comprise every re- 
quirement of men in one grand, perfect and unchangeable 
law of doing good, — in glorifying the Creator, and in 
blessing mankind. In this law, the activity of man is 
directed by the Best of Beings to the best of ends. To- 
wards God it is the reverence, homage, worship, obedi- 
ence, gratitude, trust, of perfect love ; and towards man, 
the justice, truth, compassion, long suffering, meekness, 
forgiveness of perfect love, — the perfect precept that 
sweetly binds the soul to moral purity, — perfection in 
seeking the glory of God and the welfare of his kingdom : 
and it is a law to inspire joy in the obedient during the 
ages oi an endless existence. 



God's Word Man s Chief Joy in this Present Time. 5 



Here then is an unfailing fountain of joy opened to man 
during the changes of this pilgrimage! Jehovah under- 
takes by his statutes to guide him in the paths of right- 
eousness. On the basis of these statutes man may be- 
come his servant, and attempt, through every scene of 
this life, to follow the will of his Lord ! Whatever provi- 
dences betide him (in this mutable state,) here may he 
gather the peace of those who love the Lord and his 
kingdom. Though in the actions of life he should not 
attain a perfect conformity to the will of his Father in 
Heaven, yet he would not have that will any the less 
perfect, less pure, or less holy. It is its unchangeable 
perfection and purity that renders it desirable and trans- 
forming ; which, while it humbles him for every failure, 
sweetly keeps him to exalted aims and purposes worthy 
of immortality. And if, in this changing state, this pil- 
grimage of life, the events which befall him, seem joyous 
or grievous, he still sees Jehovah by the quickening in- 
fluence of a perfect law of action, conducting him to the 
peace and purity of the undenled in heart ! Oh it is a 
joy beyond the reach of the agitations of this world, 
which the obedient gathers from following the law of his 
God ! In secret it is the consciousness of holy purpose 
and filial communion, which awaits the soul in friendliness 
to Jehovah and his cause, and which no storms from 
without can assail: in public, it is the effort of holy pur- 
pose, which allays the miseries, calms the contentions, 
and heals the moral maladies of this guilty world ; and 
which spreads around it the peace and serenity of a new 
creation. 

Wherever he goes, and whatever befalls him, the stat- 
utes of the Lord invariably direct, quicken, and support 
him in this peaceful course of action. They would ele- 
vate him above the covetousness, lust, pride, rancor, 
jealousies, rivalries, of this sinful world, to the peace of 
holiness and purity and love ; and while the days of his 
pilgrimage are blessed with these quickening and puri- 
fying statutes of the Lord, he unites in the joy and song 
of the psalmist: " Thy testimonies that thou hast com- 



6 God's Word Man s Chief Joy in this Present Time. 



manded are righteous and very faithful. Thy word is 
very pure, therefore thy servant loveth it." 

Another source of joy which the statutes of the Lord 
offer to man, and one which springs only from these, I 
mention, 

III. That amid all the changes of time, they administer 
to him the same perfect assurances of divine favor. 

Man is a dependent being, affected in his welfare by 
the feelings and conduct of others, and most of all by the 
feelings and conduct of Jehovah. His personal interests 
as a dependent being are all cast upon God, who if he 
favor, or frown, carries the weight of all creation, and 
providence, with him, to attest his kindness or his indig- 
nation. 

Now in his testimonies, this glorious Being has put into 
our hands the solemn assurances of his favor towards 
offending man. Though our apostasy had provoked his 
just indignation, and might have separated him at hope- 
less distance from us forever, yet in the benignity of his 
grace he has here given us assurances, strong as his own 
oath, and the humiliations of his Son, that he is ready to 
be reconciled to us and with more than parental care to 
manage for us all our interests. We here read the cove- 
nant of his mercy and care ; assured that we shall find in 
him a Helper ready to uphold and guard and guide us in 
the steps of this pilgrimage. Here is the basis of firm 
confidence. 

These assurances lead man to the joy of reconciliation 
with God. With a conscience burdened with the appre- 
hensions of guilt he is ready to distrust his Maker, and 
cling to his rebellion : and it is only on the firm assurances 
of his published word, that he can believe, and enter into 
the joys of reconciliation. 

These assurances encourage him to seek continually 
the blessing of God. On the basis of these he bows his 
knees in humble and suppliant confidence before the 
Father of Mercies ; and founds the expectation of that 
grace which is sufficient for him in all the circumstances 
of this life. 



God's Word Man s Chief Joy in this Present Time. 7 

The joy derived from the personal friendship of God 
is thus communicated to the soul. Here the assurances 
ever stand written, and unchanged, in all their length 
and breadth of love. His Almighty Finger has engraven 
the engagements on everlasting tablets. They are faith- 
ful and unfailing promises. Here then we may build our 
faith unmoved ; revive it when it decays ; strengthen it 
when feeble; and sustain it through every change of an 
outward providence. 

And what a fountain of joy is this, to see through every 
external change, the changeless eve and front of love still 
beaming on us from the heavens. To know that what- 
ever untoward circumstances may come upon us from his 
providence, or whatever griefs men may occasion us, he 
still maintains, beyond these clouds of sorrow, a heart to 
do us good, and is ready to be sought of us in all our 
necessities. Through all the changes of this state, weak, 
erring, sinful, and dependent man thus descries the same 
unclouded throne of grace open for his resort ; and in the 
strength of faith in the promises, may visit that throne 
with his wants, as did David : " Thou art my hiding place 
and my shield. I hope in thy word." 

One other source of joy which the statutes of the Lord 
present to man, and which he can gather from ho other 
source, I mention only, 

IV. That, amid all the changes of this life, they admin- 
ister to him the hope of a nobler existence in eternity. 

Man is an immortal being, sojourning on the earth but 
a transitory season, ere he enters on an eternal dwelling. 
With the mind of an immortal, he instinctively looks for 
that permanent good which can come only from him who 
is on the throne of immensity and eternity. He will, now 
and then, even in his farthest alienation from Jehovah 
and his busiest devotion to the world, feel the impulses 
and desires of an immortal spirit within him panting 
after the nobler and more substantial joys of immortality. 

The wants of man as an immortal being, Jehovah has 
consulted in his testimonies. Here he testifies, in a voice 
that puts to rest the agitations of doubt and unbelief, that 



8 God's Word Man s Chief Joy in this Present Time. 



the kingdom of holy subjects which he is rearing will 
share in the vision of his glories, the cheerful obedience 
of his commands, and the light of his favoring love, for 
eternal ages before his throne. The joys which his word 
administers to his servants on earth, the same word as- 
sures them shall be perfected and continued forever be- 
yond the grave. And it sets before man a practicable 
way of obtaining this nobler state. Here he pledges his 
own grace, in a method of effectual redemption through 
Christ, to lead and uphold those, who cordially seek him, 
through the snares of this life, to justify and accept them 
in the day of final trial, and to elevate them to the crowns 
and the thrones of the righteous in his kingdom. 

Now it is on this word alone, assuring him of the tri- 
umphs of Christianity and of the unfailing love of God, 
that man founds the cheering hope of a glorious immor- 
tality. And he who, guided by this word, delights in 
meditating on the glory of God, in following his com- 
mandments of purity and in seeking his favor, is prepared 
to feel the inspiring joys of such a hope. 

And how suited to administer to him consolation and 
joy, amid all the changes of this life, is such a hope ! 
All that is afflictive, all that seems untoward here, are 
but the trials of a short pilgrimage, and all beyond is one 
eternal day. Whatever events befall him here, whether 
his paths be lighted with prosperity or shaded with ad- 
versity, the statutes of the Lord direct him to look be- 
yond them all to the glories of immortality. This hope 
sustains, comforts, elevates ; lightens and alleviates the 
woes of earth ; purifies and enhances its joys. From life 
it removes its disappointments ; and from death extracts 
its sting. Man stands forth rejoicing in the liberty where- 
with God hath made him free. Disenthralled from the 
fetters and bondage of sin, and led forth by his Saviour 
from the prison-house of eternal death into the glorious 
light of day, he breathes the air of immortality ; and even 
while he walks this earth, he is enrolled a denizen of the 
Heavenly Jerusalem, and claims a kindred with the saints 
and a fellowship with angels in the transports of the 



God's Word Man s Chief Joy in this Present Time. 



skies. The testimonies of the Lord have enkindled within 
him these glowing- hopes. They have introduced into 
the house of his pilgrimage these songs of immortals. In 
days of health, vigor and activity, when his dwelling on 
earth seems most fixed and durable, he repairs continually 
to these walls of salvation for his sweetest hopes ; and 
when he stands on the verge of life — his heart and flesh 
failing him — he leans upon the ark of the covenant and 
the word of the testimony ; and as the shadows of death 
thicken around him, with the last ray of feeling he breathes 
out his soul unto God : " Let thy mercies come unto me, 
O God, even thy salvation, according to thy word. So 
shall I keep thy law continually, forever and ever." 

I have attempted, my brethren, to set before you the 
Scriptures as the only guide to true happiness amid the changes 
of this world ; and have illustrated the truth, by showing 
that they administer to man through all the events of this 
life an exhaustless theme of cheering meditation, a per- 
manent law of beneficent action, a fixed basis of confi- 
dence in God, a firm ground of hope. 

Your attention is now invited to a few remarks sug- 
gested by the subject of our present meditations. 

i. We see how far the Scriptures elevate man above the 
changes of time. 

The changes to which man is subject in this life are 
many and great : changes in condition, in station, in pos- 
sessions, in friends, in prospects, in health, in enjoyments. 
If the sun of prosperity gild his skies to-day, the clouds 
of adversity may obscure them on the morrow. To-day 
the son of Jesse is exalted from the sheep-cote and 
anointed on Hebron king of Israel amid the transports of 
his people ; to-morrow his rebellious son rends from him 
the kingdom and the hearts of the people, and he retires 
from the sacred city, ascending Olivet with a few adhe- 
rents, destitute, barefoot, and weeping. Nothing here 
is permanent ; nothing stable and sure. The mutabilities 
of this world have ever agitated the minds of men. Nor 
has man, unguided of God, relying on his own wisdom, 
ever been able to exalt himself in his feelings above these 

3 



io God's Word Man s Chief Joy in this Present Time. 



changes, or to rise above the wide spreading curse that 
afflicts and desolates humanity. The thoughts of the wise 
have been vain, the counsels of the prudent foolish. 
What can the boasted light of heathenism do for me ? 
One sage would make me a Stoic, and attempt to soothe 
the ills of this life by rendering me insensible to both the 
good and ill. But instead of leading me to some perma- 
nent good that might cheer me amid the trials of this 
state, he has cruelly told me to relinquish the hope of 
every good, to attempt the spiritual suicide of extinguish- 
ing all my sensibilities and retiring in apathy from all 
the glories of God's creation. 

Another would make me an Epicure : and tell me to 
seize each joy that meets me, and revel while I can in 
all the delights of sense, and blot the future from my 
thoughts. But while I gather around me the pipe, the 
tabret, the harp, the dance, the feast, the wine, and fill my 
senses with the delights of earth in a day of worldly 
prosperity, I cannot annihilate the morrow nor the evils 
that may come with it, and when the days of calamity 
come, all my good is gone and my griefs are insupport- 
able. I asked for something that would exalt me above 
these changes, and he sets me on the vain attempt of an- 
nihilating the evil. 

Another would make me an Ascetic : and by self-im- 
posed privations and self-inflicted tortures, attempt to 
purchase, beyond this life, some high gradation in glory. 
But he denies me even the little good that beams upon 
me in this world, and gives me no security that I shall 
not be disappointed in my hopes of good hereafter. From 
a land where some peace and sunshine dwells, he has 
embarked me on a rough and tempestuous ocean without 
assurance that I shall ever reach a happier shore. 

But when from the darkness of this world, I turn to the 
testimonies of the Lord, I see a God illuminating this 
world with the radiance of his glory, employing me as 
his servant in labors of beneficence and purity and peace, 
attending my paths with the guardianship of his Almighty 
Grace, and pouring into my breast the joys of immortality. 



God^s Word Mans Chief Jov in this Present Time. II 

Here Jehovah descends to transfuse into the cup of mor- 
tals the joys of paradise. These testimonies exalt man 
above the mutabilities of this state by yielding him a 
good, great in itself and abiding : a good which far tran- 
scends the joys of time, and which remains the same rich 
fountain to cheer and to sooth in days of the greatest 
worldly affliction. It is here that the good man ascends 
the mount of converse with God, — high above the storms 
and tempests which desolate the world below, — where all 
is sunshine and eternal peace. And while he looks down 
on a ' world that is to pass away with all the lusts thereof,' 
he knows that his joys have the firm footing of immortal- 
ity, and that 'he that doeth the will of God abideth 
forever.' 

2. We see how the Scriptures combine the peace of 
man on earth with his welfare in eternity. 

They who are of sensual and earthly mind, often think 
that the joys of the future world demand the sacrifice of 
all true happiness in this life. The reason of their judg- 
ment is easily seen in their own supreme attachment to 
the joys of time and inexperience of the joys of the soul 
that is united to its God. 

But the testimonies of the Lord require not the relin- 
quishment of any real good. They demand indeed the 
relinquishment of a supreme and absorbing regard to the 
things of this world ; but it is that man may participate 
in a good immensely greater and more enduring. They 
would lead him from the objects of creation, amid which 
his errant and rebellious soul has been wandering in dis- 
appointment and grief, for its good back again to its Crea- 
tor and Shepherd to receive in his returning favor and 
presence and his holy service the high joys for which it 
instinctively pants. 

This, to an erring soul, is the joy of redemption ; a 
welcome to the friendship of God and a place in his 
household to cheer the days of his pilgrimage below and 
to last through the coming ages of eternity. Here then, 
at the sacred oracles, the heavenly art is learned of com- 
bining the happiness of time with that of eternity. The 



12 God^s Word Man s Chief Joy in this Present Time. 



joys which these testimonies inspire, are the very joys of 
heaven. They mingle that world with ours. They con- 
nect its happy family with the family of the saints. They 
inspire in the redeemed soul in the house of this pilgrim- 
age, those songs of redemption which are struck but with 
higher rapture in the realms of everlasting day. This 
life is rendered the dawn of heaven ; its paths a happy 
pilgrimage to the world of glory. 

3. Finally, we learn the duty of depending for our 
well being in this life on the published word of God. 

The testimony of David is the testimony of the whole 
host of the faithful who have walked before us in the 
counsels of the Lord — that these statutes have yielded 
them the sweetest joys and consolations which they have 
experienced in this pilgrimage. They open before us, 
my brethren, the same fountains of joy that they have 
done to others — the same ennobling views of divine glory 
— the same converting and purifying precepts — the same 
assurance of assisting grace — the same path to immortal 
blessedness. 

But in order to reap this joy, we must in faith repair to 
these sacred fountains. We must accept the good which 
they tender us for an inheritance. We must meditate on 
that glory of God, and walk in the precepts of that law, 
and bow before that throne of grace, and make sure that 
calling to eternal life, which are revealed to us on their 
pages. 

Are nof the joys which they are ever ready to adminis- 
ter to us then, sufficient to claim this from us as our 
sacred duty ? And do we not need, amid the trials and 
changes that await us in this uncertain state, to be guided 
by the unerring testimonies of our God ? 

This duty, however, I would on the present occasion 
more especially commend to the attention of those of us 
who are now to leave these walks of science, and soon to 
enter upon the vicissitudes and changes of active live. 

My Friends, — this life the Psalmist has expressively 
termed a pilgrimage. You have just commenced the ex- 
istence of intelligent, active, dependent and immortal 



God's Word Mail s Chief Joy in this Present Time. 13 



beings under the dominion of Jehovah. He has placed 
you in this world but for a transitory season on trial for 
eternity. You are strangers in the earth. Its fleeting 
joys and sorrows are but the rapid incidents of a journey 
to the everlasting world. The past — how like a dream 
appear its fleeting changes now, from cradled infancy to 
this eventful hour of manhood ! The future — its uncer- 
tain joys and sorrows will soon be past, and on the con- 
fines of eternity the whole will appear indeed the pilgrim- 
age of strangers here. 

To render your course in this short life truly happy 
and prosperous, you need a good that is above earth's 
changes, enduring as eternity ; and this good is brought 
near you and offered you in the testimonies of the Lord. 
Go then in every scene of this short pilgrimage, and 
meet him at his holy oracles. Repair constantly to these 
fountains of knowledge, holiness, grace, and immortality. 
Here you may establish and cultivate a friendship with 
the High and Holy One, that shall be in days of pros- 
perity your highest joy, and the solace of your hearts in 
the darkest days of affliction. 

The time is now at hand when you will be called to act 
your parts in life alone. Away from your parental homes 
and the guides of earlier years, you are to contend singly 
with the duties, temptations and afflictions of the present 
state. And to whom or to what as you turn to us the eye 
and press the hand, in parting affection, can we better 
commend you than to God and to that word of his grace 
which is able to build you up in holiness here, and to give 
you an inheritance among the sanctified in the world of 
glory ? 

Have you already felt the power of this word to draw 
you near the Lord, and do you at this hour feel the sacred 
impulse of that faith that casts all its cares for time and 
eternity upon his grace ? Go forth, ye servants of the 
living God, go forth at his call, in peace. Your confidence 
is founded on the Rock of Ages, and will abide, unmoved, 
the storms of earth. The counsels of the Lord will guide, 



14 God's Word.Mans Chief Joy in this Present Time 



protect and bless you ; and yield you many a song of 
praise while on your way to join the fellowship and 
higher joys of immortals! 

Or are you still estranged from God ? Seek you no 
higher joys than can be gathered in this short pilgrimage, 
and in the objects of this transitory world ? Shall those 
immortal spirits of yours, cultivated and refined by sci- 
ence, turn aw r ay from the themes that employ the highest 
and holiest of the creation? the laws that purify and 
exalt them ? the favor that guides the humble to their 
joys? Come then, ye unhappy aliens from Jehovah, and 
at this hour, around the ark of his covenant, on the basis 
of his offers, settle your controversy with your Maker. 
Establish with him the peace of an endless reconciliation. 
Shall not the grace that calls you, touch and move your 
hearts? 

You have heard of the stubborn son, perhaps, whom 
neither the bonds of parental nor fraternal love could 
restrain from his froward purpose ; who left in alienation 
the home of his earlier years ; who, when on the billowy 
deep, or in some foreign clime, he was surveying his little 
stores, cast his eye on some memorial of a mother's or a 
sister's undying affection, and conscience awoke ; his heart 
relented ; the expiring rays of filial feeling were re-kin- 
dled in his bosom ; and he returned in dutifulness to the 
once agonized but now overjoyed family. And is it not 
so with erring man ? Is he not roving in alienation from 
Jehovah and his holy family, in quest of some portion 
among the distant objects of his creation? And, as in 
grief and disappointment and shame he surveys the emp- 
tiness of the good he finds in this estrangement, amid the 
memorials of heavenly affection that yet surround him 
the ark of the covenant meets his eye — over which the 
angels bend in admiration — containing the archives of a 
Savior's love, the love that through humiliations and 
tears and groans invites him back to the happy family of 
God. Conscience awakes ; his heart relents ; he drops his 
idols ; he submits to God, and seeks through the pilgrim- 



God's Word Man s Chief Joy in this Present Time. 15 



age of life the world of his presence. And all heaven 
joys over his return. O may this heavenly influence 
reach and subdue your hearts ! 

My Friends, whatever purposes you entertain in your 
hearts respecting the future, I have presented to you the 
only path to true prosperity in this life and beyond the 
grave. And now, in view of the vicissitudes of this pil- 
grimage and the unchanging states of happiness and 
misery that lie beyond the grave, we commend you to 
God and the word of his grace, while we affectionately 
bid you, Farewell. 



THE EVIL OF SOPHISTRY ON MORAL SUBJECTS. 



ISAIAH V: 20. 

Woe unto them that call evil good and good evil. 

One of the artifices by which the grand adversary 
deceives mankind, is that of calling things by wrong 
names; and, as it is his grand design to keep up the 
empire of sin in the world, he does this more especially 
b} 7 reversing the names of moral good and evil. For he 
knows that, as Eve in Paradise, his first victim, had, — so 
all her fallen posterity have, such an innate sense of the 
beaut} 7 of virtue and the deformity of sin, that he must 
needs put on the form of an angel of light and deceive 
them by names of virtue to gain a conquest. 

To many the artifice might seem very shallow and 
little likely to deceive. For, say the) 7 , is not holiness as 
distinct from sin, — benevolence as distinct from selfish- 
ness, as light is from darkness ; and can any one possibly 
mistake things in their nature so opposite on account of 
any misrepresentation or misnomer? But it is not holi- 
ness and sin in the general and abstract to which he 
directly applies the artifice, or in which he attempts to 
deceive men. These he leaves untouched by any direct 
assault. It is enough for his purpose to assail them in 
the concrete and merely accidental forms which the} 7 
assume in conduct, in action. He did not attack Eve 
on the general notions she entertained of holiness and 
obedience to God, and attempt at once to subvert these 
ideas by an exchange of names. That were but to strip 
himself of his mask, to throw off his robes of light, and 
appear before Eve the fiend of darkness without ability 
more to deceive. No. He converses simply about a 

4 



1 8 Evil of Sophistry on Mora/ Subjects. 



given conduct — the act of eating a particular fruit in the 
garden. Now, as that external act itself seems not in its 
own nature holiness or sin, independent of its connections 
with other things, the field is open for his artifice to pre- 
sent that specific action as connected with high and holy 
ends — with good rather than evil. And so he does. He 
represents it by his plausible and fair speeches as desira- 
ble to render her w r ise in knowledge and virtue. He thus 
surnames the evil good and the artifice succeeds. 

Now, as it is true of the great adversary and tempter, 
so is it true of all who are enlisted in his work on earth 
and are sustaining his empire of sin, that one of the most 
effectual weapons they wield is that of attaching by 
sophistical reasoning and argument wrong names to con- 
duct, and thus subverting to common minds its proper 
moral classification, calling what is evil good and what 
is good evil. 

The text denounces a woe on all who originate by their 
sophistry, or give currency by their consent to, this mis- 
representation of the names of moral qualities by which 
those which are morally evil are classed with the good, 
and the morally good with the evil. 

In order to set forth to you the grounds of such a 
denunciation, I will present the evil done by him who 
gives currency in society to this misapplication of terms 
on moral subjects. To this end I will attempt to show — 

I. That all conduct has its classification into moral 
good and evil before God, according to its tendency, 
which classification is unchangeable : and 

II. That notwithstanding this, the wrong names which 
are applied to it exert a powerful influence to deceive 
men, and thereby as a consequence to effect vast evil. 

i. In the first place, then, all conduct has its classifica- 
tion into the morally good or the morally evil before God, 
according to its tendency, which classification is un- 
changeable. 

By this proposition, I mean that all the conduct of man 
in the circumstances in which it is performed, is neces- 
sarily clothed with the attributes of moral good or moral 



Evil of Sophistry on Moral Subjects. 19 



evil, and takes its rank accordingly in the view of God. 
The same specific action outwardly, may be either inno- 
cent or constitute a crime, according- to the particular 
circumstances and conditions in which it takes place. 
As for instance, the taking the life of a man, if the act 
of the proper officer and done in the execution of a proper 
judicial sentence, may be innocent ; while the taking of 
it, if by the act of a private individual, and done to 
advance his own personal ends, would constitute the 
crime of murder. But though a specific act in different 
circumstances and under different conditions, may vary 
in moral quality ; what I mean to assert is, that conduct 
is always so related and conditioned that it must have a 
moral character of some kind attached to it, and that, 
where the attendant circumstances and conditions are 
the same, it must always have the same character. 

That conduct must always have moral character of 
some kind, is evident for two reasons : one, that all con- 
duct must have its general tendency to good or evil ; the 
other, that the law of God takes cognizance of man in all 
his conduct. 

All conduct must have its general tendency to good or 
evil. For man always has some ends of good or evil in 
view when acting, which lie beyond the action itself. 
He never acts for nothing, however near his actions seem 
at times to terminate in it. He has some design, some 
end in view, some object on which his heart is set, some 
motive for his conduct. And every such intention proves 
that the act itself, whether he rightly interpret it or not, 
must redound either most to himself alone or most to the 
general good ; it must be either selfish or benevolent ; 
either morally evil or good. 

It is evident also that all conduct must have moral 
character of some kind attached to it, because the lazv of 
God takes cognizance of man in all his conduct. His law, 
we know from its general tenor as requiring the whole 
heart and strength, and from the interpretations of it in 
its application to the specific circumstances of the life, is 
so exceeding broad as to reach to every action, requiring 



20 Evil of Sophistry on Moral Subjects. 



man in each thing he does to do what redounds to the 
honor of God ; and constituting him responsible at the 
day of judgment for all his deeds done in the bod)*. 
Every act, therefore, must not only be in its own nature 
and its necessary tendency benevolent or selfish, but must 
be one of obedience or disobedience to the lawgiver, and 
consequently in this relation morally good or evil. 

But not only must every action have moral character 
of some kind attached to it, as appears from these consid- 
erations, but also the same species of action, where the 
attendant circumstances and conditions are the same, must 
always have the same moral character. For the tendency 
of the action is the same, and by its real and true tenden- 
cy to natural good or evil is it classed in the law as right 
or wrong. The general tendency of the same action per- 
formed in the same circumstances and under the same 
conditions, must always be the same invariably, whether 
it be to the side of good or evil. For this is but repeat- 
ing, in another form, the plain axiom that like causes 
produce like effects. For example, if to take or to use an 
article that belongs to a neighbor, without his consent, 
tends to injure him and to encourage such injuries in the 
community, then to take or use an article at any other 
time when the same conditions exist, viz : that it belongs 
to a neighbor and his consent is not given, has just and 
precisely the same tendency. And as is the tendency of 
an action to good or evil, so is it ever to be classed in 
morals as right or wrong. That which tends to good is 
invariably right in form and can never in itself be wrong, 
whatever be the character of the actor; and that which 
tends to evil is invariably wrong, and can never be made 
right by any force of character in the actor. On these 
principles which determine what species of actions in the 
abstract men ought to pursue and what they ought to 
avoid, moralists have proceeded in classing various spe- 
cific actions with their limitation and conditions under 
the names of virtues and sins; the scriptures too have 
presented to us on such grounds and upon the au- 
thority of God, a great list of specific actions as right 



Evil of Sophistry on Moral Subjects. 21 



or wrong in their own nature and tendency — as com- 
mended or disapproved in his sight. The names are 
given, and that species of action to which the name 
attaches, stands forever on the moral list as he has him- 
self enrolled it among the things which are right or are 
wrong. 

And this classification I said is unchangeable. When- 
ever a being does an act which in its kind and circum- 
stances classes it under any of the names attached to the 
specific forms of moral evil, the name and the odium of 
the name attaches to it forever in the court of conscience 
and of heaven. If it is theft, if it is lying, if it is slander, 
if it is oppression, if it is any other species of sin, the 
indictment is made out in that form ; and the proof of the 
specific kind of action taking place in those circumstances 
which bring it within the limits and conditions of the 
statute, is enough to establish the verdict of guilty. Nor 
can the indicted criminal plead that the opinions of man- 
kind varied from the statute book, or that his own opinion 
differed, or that, like Eve intending to gain wisdom, he 
intended anything good. He is bound by law in the 
court of conscience and heaven — his voluntary commis- 
sion of what was prohibited in the statute book, and pro- 
hibited as a thing necessarily tending to evil, is enough to 
sweep away, as vain, all those flatteries of a surrounding 
world or of his own heart which, in the day of temptation 
deceived him, and emboldened him to the crime. 

But I proceed to show, 

2. That notwithstanding this eternal distinction in the 
court of conscience and heaven of actions into morally 
good and evil according to their tendency, the wrong 
names which are given them exert a powerful influence to 
deceive man and thereby as a consequence work out vast 
evil. 

To set the truth of this proposition more clearly before 
you, I will present to you the origin of the misapplication 
of terms, which is made among men on the subject of 
morals, the great influence these misapplied terms have 
to deceive men, and the vast evils which are consequently 
effected by it in the world. 



22 Evil of Sophistry on Moral Subjects. 



The origin of that gross perversion of terms in the 
world which represents evil as good and good as evil, lies 
in that spirit of libertinism which is natural to the heart 
of man. Man does not well brook the restraints of a pure 
and sound morality. His own nature furnishes a con- 
science, and revelation presents a God, enacting a strict, 
unpliable, unchangeable code of morals ; before which 
man must bow with willing submission and conformity, or 
be crushed in anger. Before the list of duties and sins 
presented in this unmitigated code, sin trembles and fears 
to advance ; and its libertine spirit seeks to hold up 
another and more accommodating list before its eyes. 
The more to sustain itself in a world where the light of 
the true code is still shining, it seeks to advocate its own 
perversions before men, and, by arraying around it a party 
of adherents with their countenance and protection, thus 
to entrench itself in a kingdom of darkness, too deep, if 
possible, to be penetrated by any rays from the kingdom 
of light. Here then this libertine spirit, instigated to 
such boldness no doubt by the grand adversary, enlists 
her public advocate. She has now a tongue to speak and a 
plea to make in the world. And that advocate she intro- 
duces into society under the different characters of the 
proud sophist and the vulgar scoffer. 

The proud sophist miscalls evil good and good evil by 
his perverted and false reasonings. He takes the more 
elevated stand in society of the eloquent reasoner : and 
from his more lofty station looks down with pride on the 
vulgar crowds he would gain over to his conclusions and 
attach to his standard. He discourses, back, of the great 
principles which lie at the foundation of morals. He 
argues against Christianity with its revelations, or against 
the eternal sanctions of the righteous government of God, 
or against the being of God himself, the grand support of 
morality, or else against some of those principles which 
are essential in themselves to a sound code of morals. 
The name he would affix to any species of action is not 
directly advanced, but follows rather as a conclusion from 
the fine web he spins of sophistical reasoning and casuistry. 



Evil of Sophistry on Moral Subjects. 23 



He is not willing that an action and the moral classifica- 
tion made of it in the Scriptures should pass for its worth. 
His common sense and that of the world might see too 
clearly that the name and the thing correspond. By go- 
ing back therefore to take up and sustain some false prin- 
ciple, or by starting with a correct principle and moving 
forward on a false track, things in his view have come in 
the result to change sides. Though the same titles of 
virtue and sin remain to head the two lists, the actions 
enumerated in the lists are wonderfully revolutionized by 
the process. The old-fashioned sins enumerated in the 
Bible have disappeared as mere foibles or are gilded over 
as virtues. Its old-fashioned virtues have faded away as 
weaknesses or are blackened over as sins. 

To the sophist in this work of moral perversion, suc- 
ceeds the vulgar scoffer. He acts in society the double 
part of the flatterer and the scorner. Taking the conclu- 
sions that, are furnished to his hand by the sophist, he 
goes forth in society with the signals and watchwords of 
his leader and party, applying titles of flattery furnished 
him for the wicked and of scorn for the godly. 

He is the flatterer of the wicked. He seeks to soothe 
their disturbed spirits with the smiles of commendation, 
and to blind their eyes with the glare of great swelling 
words of vanity applied to their conduct. Their unbelief 
in God and his word he calls, perchance, the triumph of 
reason over prejudice, their impiety a spirit of lofty inde- 
pendence ; their sins and lusts the dictates of a true, large 
and free nature ; their indifference to the sins and im- 
pieties of the world around them, a generous liberality to 
those who differ from them in opinion ; and their servility 
to him and his flatteries, the offerings and evidences of a 
good heart : names properly used to signify things which 
are good, but applied by him to things which are evil. 

He is the scorner of the godly. In his quiver are the 
arrows of detraction. They are tipped with the venom 
of scorn. They are shot w T ith the laugh of boasted 
triumph. For their firm belief in the word of God, he 
derides the godly as weak and prejudiced enthusiasts ; 



24 Evil of Sophistry on Moral Subjects. 



their calm and serious frame of devotion to God with its 
full and tranquilizing joys, of which he knows nothing, he 
scouts as mere gloom and melanchoty ; their deep rever- 
ence of God and holy fear of sin, is entitled, in his vocab- 
ulary, dark and harrowing superstition : their strict 
obedience to the scriptural precepts of morality, black- 
ened as the bondage of Pharasaical austerity and hypoc- 
risy ; their zeal for the progress of divine truth and the 
reformation of mankind, stigmatized as narrow-minded 
bigotry, or blind fanaticism : and their faithfulness in 
reproving him for his sin, resented as the venting of a 
spiteful and malicious heart : — names which signify evil 
things, but applied by him to good. 

Such then are the arts of misrepresentation used in the 
world on the subject of morals : used to a greater or less 
extent in every age and country — arts, which every one 
must expect to meet ; a trial which every one must en- 
counter. The great power of this misrepresentation to 
deceive mankind, we are now to consider. 

That there is in this artifice great power to deceive will 
appear from facts, and from the nature of the case. 

Facts abundantly show us the power of falsehood to 
deceive. Every day presents us with the spectacle of its 
sad victims. Men are daily carrying on the work of re- 
presenting the good as evil and the evil as good, and their 
arts of persuasion too often succeed. Men are thus 
deceived and defrauded out of everything good. They 
are deceived and betrayed into everything evil. There 
are commercial cheats and those who believe them ; 
social cheats and those who believe them ; political 
cheats, and, worse than all moral and religious cheats, 
with their believers and followers. None stifles his con- 
science and turns knave, but is sure to make some his 
dupes. Nothing more fully attests the power of the 
deception used in the world than this its success. Its 
success began even in paradise ; it has gone forward to 
this day, and so it will continue, we have reason to fear, 
till the whole process is arrested and broken up by the 
trump of the Archangel and the appearance of the Final 
Judge. 



Evil of Sophistry on Moral Subjects. 2$ 



But the influence it exerts with respect to moral good 
and evil among men will be better understood if we ex- 
amine the nature of the case — that while the arts of 
deception which we have been considering are well 
adapted to have influence upon men, men on the other 
hand are greatly exposed to their power by their weak- 
ness, their ignorance, their inconsideration, and, more than 
all, by their inclinations. 

The arts of deception we have considered are such in 
kind as are well adapted to have influence upon man. A 
fellow being like ourselves on the stage of life with us, 
having the same great interests at stake, in time and eter- 
nity, appears the champion of what he calls good, the 
opposer of what he calls evil : himself so much the dupe 
of Satan as to believe in the false cause he advocates. He 
(or she, for in these last days we have seen even woman 
to head the band of the scoffers) stands up before us with 
the attributes of apparent wisdom and philanthropy to 
command respect and attention. He speaks with an im- 
passioned earnestness, involving himself and his eternal 
interests in the cause. Attention is summoned. Decision 
is called for. His net is cast over and around many 
minds, and his proselytes stand ready to drag it on shore. 
They go forth to secure decision and consent ; to gain an 
open avowal from the consenting ; to bind them, by pub- 
lic committal, to their own ranks. They take up the 
terms and cant phrases that embody the results of their 
leader's arguments. He has coined for them some word 
that in their mouth covers up sophistry : a word that 
shuts out argument : a word that is the badge of 
honor in their ranks : a word that is flatteringly offered 
to the acceptance of the hesitating with a smile of 
offered friendship. Will he accept it, is the demand : 
yes, or no ? If still hesitating, they are ready to ply 
him with the alternative their leader has furnished them 
in the false phrase by which he has blackened the cause 
of good. It is presented as a thing of scorn in their 
ranks. It is tossed at him with an air and frown betoken- 
ing triumphant contempt for the one who should accept 

5 



26 Evil of Sophistry on Moral Subjects. 



it, with the demand, Will you take that? Assailed by 
such arts and weapons of sophistry, surely it would 
require firmness in man to withstand them. 

But the art of false persuasion appears greater still in 
degree when it is considered relatively as bearing on the 
weakness of man. 

Man is exposed by his ignorance. Men begin their 
existence as babes ; and often, in the moral sense, they 
never advance beyond childhood : not having their moral 
senses exercised, by reason of use, clearly to discern good 
and evil. They have very little acquaintance with the 
system of practical ethics given in the Bible, with its 
limits and grounds. They know them, as they do most 
of their fellow men, by name only. They are far better 
acquainted with the desires of their own hearts, and with 
the objects of the present world. They know more of 
the relation of their actions to things which are temporal 
than the relations they bear to the unseen God and the 
issues they are to have in an unseen eternity. 

But again, men, whatever is their knowledge, are incon- 
siderate. They are inconsiderate about preparing them- 
selves for the onsets of temptation. They are hesitating and 
wavering on the point of any fixed principles that would 
arm them with strength. They do not take it into con- 
sideration and decide, whether they will accept from God 
the Saviour, the armor which he offers them in his word 
by which they might be able to withstand all the wiles of 
the adversary. And as they are not fixed, trusting in 
God, they are exposed to put too much trust in man. And 
when the hour of assault is come, they are still incon- 
siderate. They take into consideration indeed the whole 
that is offered them in the temptation ; but, in that hour 
of their utmost need, how often do they fail to take into 
consideration the counsels and persuasions that are offered 
them to the contrary in the word of God; and to make 
up their minds at once to follow a faithful Creator and 
reject their tempter. How, then, with no consideration to 
meet and with none to repel their tempter, can it be 
expected they would escape ? 



Evil of Sophistry on Moral Subjects. 27 



But still again, and worse than all, men are inclined at 
heart to welcome their tempter. Their hearts are not set 
right about good and evil. Their estimates of temporal 
good and evil are higher than their estimates of spiritual 
and eternal. They love and fear the one more than they 
love and fear the other. By this strange perversion of feel- 
ing, their real and worst enemies come to appear in their 
view as their friends, and their real and best friends to ap- 
pear as their enemies. Their tempters are soothing flatterers 
who exact no change, who impose no cost of reformation 
and self-denial : while God and the good are severe re- 
provers that in their faithful love exact both. Is it 
strange that they whose hearts are thus perversely 
inclined should say. Prophecy unto us deceits, speak 
smooth things, cause the holy One of Israel to cease from 
before us ;— that they should be ready to turn the eye 
and ear away from God and open them both to their 
tempters ? 

Is it strange then that men, amid all the spiritual ignor- 
ance they suffer themselves to remain in, which seems 
hardly competent even to say which be the first principles 
of the oracles of God ; — that men, too inconsiderate even 
to decide whether they shall trust in God or men mOst, 
and thus ready to exalt men over all on the throne of 
their feeble reason ; that men so in love with the world 
and estranged from God in their hearts, as to fear the 
costs and self-denials of religion more than the pains of 
eternal damnation ; should be carried away by the decep- 
tive arts of the ungodly wise men and disputers of this 
world, when pressed with all their sophistry and assailed 
by the clamors, the boasts and the scorns of their adher- 
ents? Is it strange that they should come to believe a 
lie, when it is so acceptable and so strongly enforced— 
that they should commit themselves, enroll with the 
party, and unite with them thenceforth in calling evil good 
and good evil ? 

We come now to consider the vast evils which are 
effected by this process of deception in the world. 



28 Evil of Sophistry on Moral Subjects. 



Its evil consequences are to be judged of by their 
nature and extent. 

Their nature is unfolded in the fact that the distinction 
between moral good and evil which God has proclaimed 
to his creatures — a distinction forever true and unchange- 
able — is made by him the basis on which he reposes his 
own honor as the Ruler of the Universe ; on which he 
establishes the peace and joy of his kingdom ; on which 
he secures the salvation of souls. Against all these high 
and endless interests therefore, the blow is leveled which 
seeks to destroy that distinction between moral good and 
evil which is the foundation on which they all rest. 

He, therefore, who aims to pervert the distinctions 
between good and evil, does injustice to God, to the 
interests of society, and the spiritual welfare of indi- 
viduals, and the more and farther he prevails, the wider 
is the extent of the mischief. 

He does injustice to God. His great name is dis- 
honored and blasphemed as the author of falsehood and 
confusion: his government, with its laws and sanctions, 
is rebelled against and invaded : the kingdom of light and 
holiness and peace which his grace has set up among us 
by his Son in the midst of our rebellions, is hindered in 
its progress. 

He does injury to society. The foundations of its 
security are shaken. Rapine, lust, fraud, deceit, violence, 
are sent forth by him to fatten on their spoils ; and justice, 
integrity, truth, the fear of God, are hunted and cried 
down as enemies : till lands, fitted to rejoice as the garden 
of God, are desolate ; and heaven weeps, and earth 
mourns, over innocence slain and equity prostrate. 

He does injury to the spiritual welfare of individuals. 
He meets the ignorant, inconsiderate, worldly wanderer 
from God whom a Saviour is inviting back to forgiveness 
and to rest. He commits him, and enrolls him, the son of 
perdition. A lie is received, and grasped in his right 
hand as his treasure and defense. His way to destruc- 
tion is made easy and sure. Onward he goes to the gates 
of death. He dies an outcast from God. The pangs of a 



Evil of Sophistry on Moral Subjects. 29 



just condemnation seize upon his soul. He finds out the 
cheat too late ; deceived by false names of virtue and of 
evil, he is forever fallen. O, that any, charmed by false 
names of wisdom, should forever part with the substance ; 
that any for fear of being called fools in the scoffs of the 
ungodly, should make themselves such in reality to all 
eternity ! 

To how wide an extent this mischief is carried on in 
our world may be seen by a survey of the kingdom of 
darkness : a kingdom which has its oldest and firmest seat 
in the lands of idolatry, which extends over the adherents 
of the false prophet, and embraces all within the light of 
Christian lands who retain the mark and the practices and 
worship the images of the great Beast of Idolatry in the 
earth — a kingdom built on error — sustained by sophistry 
and deception — in which evil is called good and good evil. 
What hecatombs of ruined men, of ruined nations, lie 
before us : whom Satan the god of this world hath blinded 
and deceived in person and by his emissaries, and whom 
he will continue to deceive till Christ shall come, in the 
brightness of his spiritual dominion over all, to drive him 
away and enchain him, that he go out to deceive the 
nations no more. 

I have thus set before you, as I intended, the ground of 
the woe denounced against him who calls evil good and 
good evil — that the distinction between moral good and 
evil, set up by the Creator being founded in the necessary 
tendency they have to promote the natural good and evil 
of beings, is in its own nature true and unchangeable ; and 
that the wrong names and sophistical reasonings set up 
by men which confound this distinction have yet great 
power to deceive and as a consequence work vast evil. 

The use which I would make of the subject as I con- 
clude, is that of caution against deceiving and being 
deceived, against employing the arts of deception and 
falling under their power. 

We have been looking on the world abroad to examine 
the operations of deceit that are in it in reference to 
moral subjects, and to behold the vast evils it works 



3<D Evil of Sophistry on Moral Subjects. 



among men. Every man is not living abroad in the large 
world, but every one is living in a little world of his own : 
and influences are in thousands of ways coming in from 
the larger world into the smaller one in which he resides, 
and going out from his circle again into the wider circle 
of humanity. Every one is therefore capable of exerting 
a wider influence upon others than he now sees. Every 
one is exposed to a wider reach of influence from others 
than he fully apprehends. 

Beware then (i) Against deceiving others. Be not the 
advocate of error. Advocate nothing at any time, in any 
place, which your conscience or revelation condemns. 
Your words of error and sophistry may fall on the ear of 
some soul in spiritual ignorance, inconsiderate of safety, 
inclining to evil, and enlist and secure him in error — error 
that shall keep him from Christ and holiness and land him 
in the region and shadows of eternal death. Nor does 
the evil stop here. The evil of sin is as the plague of 
leprosy. The soul you infect goes forth and spreads the 
infection in the wide world. There are atheists and infi- 
dels and men of lax morals enough in the world already. 
Why should you increase the number? You have sins 
enough to answer for at the tribunal of God already. 
Why should you go on to add sin to sin and heap to your- 
self greater condemnation ? No; enlist rather at once un- 
der Christ, the great Supporter of Truth and the Author 
of Salvation, that every past sin may be forgiven you. 
Be the firm and unflinching advocate of truth and holi- 
ness. Represent things as they are. Call evil evil, and 
good good. Uphold the honor of God, the kingdom of 
Christ and holiness, advance the good of mankind and the 
salvation of souls, and take your reward with the faithful 
in heaven. 

Beware again (2) Against being deceived by others. 
Fall not the victim of error. Be not over-confident 
in your own wisdom, lest it prove your folly and ruin. 
There is ignorance and inconsiderateness and perverse- 
ness of feeling enough cleaving to the best, to expose 
them to deception ; and the sophists and disputers of this 



Evil of Sophistry on Moral Subjects. 3 1 



world, meet you at every corner and turn of life. If you 
are not armed for safety, you will be ensnared, deceived 
and ruined for ever. Fix your heart then forever on God 
the source of life and safety, trusting in Him as a child. 
Take the plain instructions and precepts of his word as 
your guide, its promises and threatenings as your 
strength. Learn them, consider them, love them more 
and more from day to day. Hold them fast, amid all the 
sophistical arguments or vulgar ridicule and abuse of an 
ungodly world. Be not afraid of the result. Be ye sure 
the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, its prin- 
ciple and support, and will one day so appear to his 
whole kingdom. If you cannot answer all the arguments 
of the subtle, if you cannot be indifferent wholly to the 
flatteries and scoffs of the wicked, still believe in God, 
estimating his wisdom above their sophistry, prizing his 
promises and threatenings above all they can offer. Be 
firm, and you will find much to encourage you in this 
world. The public advocates and hearty friends of God's 
truth and cause are many to strengthen you ; and they 
are advancing forward continually in the earth from con- 
quest to conquest. Be firm in these days of assault and 
trial, and when the day of God shall burst upon the world, 
you will see his wisdom triumph gloriously over all the 
machinations of the perverse, you shall be crowned as his 
faithful and confiding servant before his kingdom. 



THE DESTRUCTIVE INELUENCE OF THE TRANS- 
GRESSOR IN A COLLEGE. 



ECCLESIASTES, IX : 18. 
One sinner destroyeth much good. 

This is a truth attested by universal experience. Its 
importance is apparent, even when applied to him who is 
a sinner only in heart ; who is destroying his own soul, 
and all the influence of the counsel and care bestowed 
upon him by Jehovah and the pious. But the truth as- 
sumes a higher importance when applied to the open 
transgressor; who not only destroys himself but becomes 
the corrupter of those around him ; spreading as he goes, 
a wide waste of moral pestilence and death. Applied to 
such an one, it assumes an importance corresponding with 
the stations which he occupies in life, and the means and 
facilities which they give him for approaching others with 
his polluting society and example. Witness him in a 
family ; it is there he infects the springs of domestic order 
and happiness. Witness him in the intercourse of friends ; 
it is there he comes, as a fiend of perdition, to destroy 
some confiding associate. Witness him in the hall of 
legislation or on the bench of judgment ; it is there he 
poisons the fountains of justice as they flow down into 
the community. Follow him into ever)- station ; he ap- 
pears in all, the same fiend of ruin, destroying every- 
where the good exposed to his polluting touch. 

But I shall not call you to dwell upon what the open 
transgressor may do to destroy, in merely imagined cir- 
cumstances ; I would bring the truth much nearer home 
to you, and apply it to a reality often witnessed within 
the precincts of this College. I would ask you candidly 

6 



34 Destructive Influence of the 



and seriously to hear me, while I attempt to portray 
the truth : that one open transgressor, in an Institution like 
this, destroys much good. 

This power in a single sinner to destroy what is good 
is manifest even in this sacred retreat of science. You 
are here assembled in a miniature world of your own, 
withdrawn from that outer and larger world that sur- 
rounds you, and even here you see operating on a scale of 
less extent the very evils in their germs that you can see 
grown rife and mature in the wider circle of the world 
that surrounds you. 

Will you not allow me then as one who has long been 
conversant with the interests of this little college world, 
and as one who still wishes and prays for the welfare of 
its members, to set the truth of our text before you, as it 
is exemplified in such a circle as yours — the society gath- 
ered within the walls and occupied in the peaceful pursuits 
of a College- 
Let me show you that one sinner here has great power 
to destroy, and that the good which he destroys here is 
peculiarly great. 

I. One transgressor among you has great power to destroy. 
He comes with his habits of dissipation, intemperance, 
debauchery, gambling, into a society which, in some re- 
spects, is very open to his influence. For he unites himself 
here to a circle of the young and inexperienced ; open 
in their confidence ; absent from parental restraint, and 
surrounded by many facilities and encouragements to 
lead them into the practice of all these vices. He uses 
his enticements and example with companions whose 
peculiar circumstances strongly favor him in obtaining 
a victory 7 over their minds. 

He enters here into the circle of the young and inex- 
perienced. Youth and inexperience, it is well known, are 
circumstances always favoring temptation. Youth is 
sportive ; buoyant in its feelings ; bright in its hopes ; 
eager after its pleasures ; unestablished in its principles. 
Experience has not y T et come to trace out actions with 
faithful hand, to their remote results and consequences ; 



Transgressor in a College. 35 



to instil her sober views of life ; to mould the character 
into distinct and stable form. Is it strange that minds 
thus quick to receive every impression, thus open to 
every influence, should be an easier prey to the contagion 
of a vicious companion ? When I see one person of dis- 
sipated life and habits — living and moving in your circle, 
I feel that he has great facilities for carrying on the work 
of destruction among you. He is not easy in sin without 
companions ; and his polluting enticements he spreads 
before those who, though not in extremest youth, are in 
that middle stage between it and manhood, which com- 
bines all the quickness of youth to receive impression and 
habit, with all the strength of manhood to retain it ; and 
I fear that he will achieve at once, an easy and a perma- 
nent victory. 

Again, such a transgressor within your circle is con- 
joined to a fraternity most open in their confidence. The 
person who has never been united to such an institution, 
scarcely conceives what strong bonds of confidence are 
intertwined amongst its members. Equal nearly in age, 
engaged in the same general pursuits, daily associated in 
the same public exercises, hourly sharing in the same 
trials and enjoyments, they view each other only in this 
common relation. The distinctions of wealth, family, 
character even, disappear. All hearts are interwoven 
into one common woof. An openness and familiarity of 
all-reposing confidence, renders every heart accessible. 
Classmate is but another name for brother. Even the 
little feuds and strifes that occasionally arise, dissolve 
under the power of its charm. Is it strange, then, that in 
a society so open and unsuspecting in their confidence, 
he who comes as a destroyer should easily obtain victims 
to his sins and associates with him in vice ? Into what 
room may he not enter and sit down with you as your 
companion ? Into what ear may he not whisper his cor- 
rupting persuasions? And who that is not steeled with 
that fortitude of moral principle which says at once, like 
the Saviour, to every temptation, come it from whom it 
may : " Get thee behind me Satan ;" who else will not 



36 Destructive Influence of the 



feel the strength of that bond which unites him to a class- 
mate, and be drawn by it to listen to his suggestions and 
to consent to his guilty proposals. 

Again, such a transgressor here is united to a society of 
youths who are absent from parental restraint and watch- 
fulness. What power has a father's friendship, and a 
mother's pure and deep love, to check the waywardness 
of youth and to guide it with the wisdom of experience ! 
I have seen the youth dwelling under their roof; nur- 
tured by their care ; watched by their eye ; guarded 
by their love ; and have felt that next to the bond of 
heaven's authority and love, theirs is the strongest, the 
purest. What, when they place the son of their hopes 
in an institution like this, remote from their eye, shall 
supply the place of their watchfulness ? Its appointed 
guardians may exert a parental watchfulness over him ; 
but it shall not touch his heart like the eye of father and 
mother. When the seducer of his morals comes to meet 
him here with his enticements, his father may be thinking 
of him with deep solicitude, his mother may be praying 
for his welfare with heart-broken agonies. But he is far 
from their presence. The eye of a father bent on him in 
its sternness, or of a mother beaming upon him in its 
love, might nerve him to say 'no' to his enticer, to refuse 
uniting with him in his unworthy proposals. But the 
corrupter assails him afar from the parental roof. The 
tempter here finds him, removed from the watchfulness 
of those hearts that would bleed most deeply over his 
downfall. And the temptations which youth and confi- 
dence favor, are thus strengthened by the absence of 
parental restraint. 

Again, the destructive power of the transgressor here 
is increased by the facilities and encouragement for dissipa- 
tion which surround the Institution. Were all those who 
surround our literary institutions as faithful as their offi- 
cers, or the parents of their pupils, to withhold from them 
the means and discountenance them in the practice of 
dissipation, the transgressor within their walls would 
not have that power which he now has to lead others 



Transgressor in a College. 37 



with him into polluting and forbidden pleasures. With- 
out a haunt to which he might lead his victims, inspected 
by eyes which would frown upon him with indignation ; 
his polluting influence would be checked ; and youths, 
otherwise exposed, be rescued from his grasp. But ah ! 
it is a sad story that here the young and inexperienced, 
confiding in each other, and removed from parental in- 
spection, are drawn and lured away by the facilities and 
encouragements to dissipation which are brought around 
the very walls of their habitation. How many for the 
sake of receiving the money of the young, will adminis- 
ter to their guilty pleasures and vices ; see their morals 
debauched ; encourage their enticements over one an- 
other, and be accessory to this progressive ruin of souls ! 
When was there ever an institution like this planted any 
where, but these harpies of ruin hovered around it on 
their filthy pinions ? " Through covetousness and with 
feigned words " " they make merchandise of you," — the 
dreadful traffic of your souls for their gains. What 
power do these give the person of dissipated habits 
among you to destroy. Money only is needed ; and the 
pleasures to which he entices you, however guilty and 
polluting, are readily administered, The transgressor 
is thus often countenanced, encouraged, animated, in his 
work of temptation and ruin, by external accessories, 
who are interested both to aid in sin and to screen from 
detection. 

Such are the circumstances relative to college life 
which show how great is the destructive power of a 
single corrupt and vicious student over his companions ; 
that he brings his temptations to the young and inexper- 
ienced ; who repose the utmost confidence in him ; who 
are far removed from the watchful eye of their parents ; 
and who are surrounded from without the institution by 
those who favor the pleasures of vice and guilty dissipa- 
tion. 

Let me show you now, 

II. That the good zvhich a transgressor succeeds to destroy 
here, is peculiarly great. He always destroys much good : 



38 Destructive Influence of the 



in the immediate victims of his corruption ; in the Insti- 
tution of which he is a member ; in the families to whose 
sons he has access ; in the community among whose 
rising hopes he dwells. 

1. He destroys much good in the victim of his corruption. 

The youthful student here, bright in talent, high in 
hope, presents a spectacle, to all, of no ordinary interest. 
He is justly regarded as one who is to participate in 
higher responsibilities in life, and to engage in wider and 
more efficient spheres of action than the companions 
whom he has left at the plough, at the anvil, at the coun- 
ter. At any rate he enters upon great privileges which 
are denied to them, and for which he must give account. 

The dissipated youth, who seduces a companion here 
to unite with him in his vices and guilty pleasures, seizes 
on a victim of no ordinary interest, and brings upon him 
no ordinary ruin. 

He is the destroyer of literary attainment. The inebri- 
ating cup, the noisy revel, the lewd debauch, hold no 
communion with the room of sobriety, the table of study, 
the lamp of diligence, the page of learning and lore. 
Intemperate and guilty pleasures debilitate the body, 
clog the mind, indispose both for study, reduce the whole 
man to the indolence and apathy of the brutes. The 
victory of a sinner over his companion here, is a victory 
over his attainments ; the defeat of his diligence ; the 
perversion of his privileges. 

He is the destroyer of character. The victim of his 
enticements is led to pleasures which sear the conscience ; 
stifle each generous sensibility of the heart ; eradicate 
the principles of virtue; and reduce the man in subjec- 
tion to their imperious power. The misled youth has 
entered into the haunts of guilty pleasure ; he has enrol- 
led his name among her votaries ; he has dedicated him- 
self at her altars ; she will never give him a discharge 
from her dominion ; he will never satiate her with his 
offerings : he must surrender to her his conscience, his 
principles, his character. 

He is the destroyer of temporal prospects. What hopes 



Transgressor in a College. 39 



might have dawned upon the youth before he fell into 
the fangs of his destroyer! The prospect of entering 
upon life, with health, with attainments, with reputation 
and character; opening before him the avenues to the 
confidence, the respect, the love of his fellow men ! But 
ah! his destroyer has blasted these hopes; and delivered 
him over to his parents and the community, without 
attainment and without principle, an idler and a sot, to be 
henceforth bloated and deformed by his lusts ; with no 
other prospects for life than those which the wise man 
assures us belong to him "that loveth pleasure" — "he 
shall be poor" — the prospect of poverty in character, in 
estate, in reputation, in public confidence, in peace of 
mind ; until he reach the grave. 

He is the destroyer of the soul, for the drunkard is 
disinherited from the kingdom of God. Earth has no 
language nor any similitude adequate to describe a ruin 
like this. An immortal mind debased ; its endless aspir- 
ings disappointed ; its recreant energies recoiling in an- 
ger on itself; a heaven of glory lost; a hell of speechless 
agony forever endured ; these are the melancholy parts 
of such a ruin. Oh how little apprehended and known in 
this w r orld ! Is it not enough for any one of you to go 
alone into these everlasting burnings? Must you take 
with you some hapless companion ? Will you select him 
from this group and bear him away from these high priv- 
ileges to take the lowest place in hell, and endure the 
fiercest flames of wrath ? 

Such destruction does the sinner here bring upon the 
victim of his corruption : But, 

2. He destroys much good in the Institution of which he 
is a vie 1 nber. 

An institution like this, founded in piety r and prayer, 
nurtured by the wise and the good, consecrated to Christ 
and his cause, and embosoming in it the hopes of the 
Church and the State, is an institution of most sacred 
character ; which calls upon all who are in any way con- 
nected with it to guard it from injury, to further its 
design, to aid in its prosperity. The stealthy^ transgres- 



40 Destructive Influence of the 

sor who becomes a member of it, who brings the pollu- 
ting and destructive influence of his vices into the 
community, vitally assails its welfare. Though bound, 
in entering upon its privileges, to unite with its instruct- 
ors, its official guardians and its pupils in securing the 
great and good ends of its establishment ; he comes not to 
build but to destroy. 

He destroys the influence of its instructions. Here men 
are stationed by Providence in the laborious office of 
imparting instruction. They are laboring to communi- 
cate lessons of knowledge and wisdom and piety for the 
good of the community. With pains, with watchings, 
with prayers, they open to you the fountains of human 
and divine knowledge ; and never do they reap a richer 
reward than when they see their instructions distilling 
on the mind with fertilizing influence as the dew, ripen- 
ing youth into the glories of an intelligent, wise, and 
virtuous manhood. But the open transgressor sets at 
nought these counsels and instructions : he leads the 
victims of his corruption to unite with him in passing 
them heedlessly by ; and his heart and tongue are enlisted 
in destroying widely around him the moral and religious 
bearing of these instructions, on the mind of his fellow 
students. 

He destroys the prevalence of its laws. Those salutary 
regulations and restraints which its wise and faithful 
guardians have enacted to secure that order which is 
vital to its welfare, are bonds as light to his conscience as 
the web of the spider : for pleasure, intemperate and pol- 
luting, knows no law ; abides no restraint ; breaks through 
every wholesome regulation ; and riots in her own lawless 
sportings. 

He destroys the health of its morals. The morals of a 
community are composed of the morals of its members ; 
and he and the victims of his enticement are dissolute. 
Every such member therefore swells the amount of sins 
and transgressions in this little community. He also does 
much to lower the general tone of moral sentiment ; for 
that dread of vice never too quick, that aversion to it 



Transgressor in a College. 41 



never too strong, which are necessary to guard the mor- 
als, are in his presence and daily familiarity relaxed and 
softened down by the power of sympathy. One such 
sinner shall do much to weaken in almost every breast the 
sentiment of abhorrence and indignation felt at vice. If 
they "embrace" not " the monster " at the first, yet, 

" familiar with her face, 
They first endure, then pity, then embrace." 

He destroys the vigor of its piety. I would hope that 
no such transgressor could ever prevail on one of this 
little flock, named after the name of our Lord Jesus 
Christ, directly to follow him and unite with him in his 
guilt) 7 pleasures. Yet, relaxing the tone of moral senti- 
ment as he goes, he prowls around the sacred enclosure 
of the Church ; and if he obtain no victims from it he 
often inspires, in the less established and the less vigorous, 
the fear of assuming an unpopular firmness and decision of 
religious character. Even the most established and the 
most vigorous in the body, at times, witnessing the im- 
moralities without and the decay of religious sentiment 
within ; find their hopes discouraged, their ardor damp- 
ened, their faith weakened and almost yielding to despair. 

He destroys the soundness of its reputation. For what 
deeper wound can he inflict on its honor than that which 
is aimed at its instructions, its order, its morals, its piety ? 

Such is the destruction which he brings into the institu- 
tion of which he is a member ; But, 

3. He destroys much good in the families to whose sons 
he here has access. 

The thought is full of interest to every one who is a 
member in an institution like this, as he looks around on 
his fellow students, that he is admitted into the confidence 
and bosom of almost as many families, scattered over this 
extensive country. Each student with whom he is in the 
habit of daily and familiar intercourse, has a father or 
mother ; perhaps, some friendly brother ; or affectionate 
sister; who contemplate, in him, the son of their hopes, 
or the brother of their pride and joy. Each youth here 

7 



42 Destructive Influence of the 



should feel that his influence has this extensive bearing 
on relations so sacred, so touching. Every one, be it 
remembered, who is dissipated in his habits and corrupt 
in his morals, brings a moral pestilence into the bosom of 
all these families scattered throughout the length and 
breadth of our vast country. He carries, into all these 
sacred enclosures of domestic love, a heart more cruel 
than the grave, to destroy their peace, their counsels, 
their hopes. 

He destroys their peace. For they feel that the sons of 
their prayers and hopes are exposed to the polluting 
venom of his example and enticements. A thousand 
anxieties crowd around their hearts as they watch over 
the course of their absent children ; as they receive from 
time to time intelligence of their progress: for they know 
that a pestilence is near them that may give them its 
deadly contagion, that an enemy is nigh them ready to 
devour. How would it relieve the anxieties of these 
households, what peace and confidence would dawn on 
their again happy circles, were it known to them that no 
such wolves were prowling in ambush among their sons ! 
that every individual of corrupt habits here, were 
searched out, reproved, humbled before all in deep 
repentance, or else excluded from all ; and that the 
hearts of all this body were set, as a munition of rocks, 
against the inroads of every vice and iniquity ! 

He destroys their counsels. The parents of these 
youth, many of them, have instructed and warned them 
from their infancy. In tears and with many prayers, they 
have often administered to them the counsels of faithful- 
ness and love. But ah ! what shall become of all their 
admonitions ? Their son is far removed from their pre- 
sence ; and nigh him, in the garb of confidence and 
friendship, dwells the destroyer; ever ready to distil into 
his ear his polluting enticements ; and to lead him, with 
the basest ingratitude to forget his father and the mother 
who bore him, and trample on all their counsels. 

He destroys their hopes. Come, go with me to the 
family whose son the corrupter has here led astray into 



Transgressor in a College. 43 



intemperance. It is the house of mourning ; but not 
for the dead — for the worse than dead — the living buried 
in his pollutions. See, as we enter it, what mortification, 
what grief, what despair, are depicted on the counten- 
ances of the family group : for he whom they loved, 
whom they labored and prayed for, they have heard has 
fallen a victim to intemperate and polluting pleasures ; 
such as ruin his diligence, his character, his prospects, his 
soul. Let the corrupter go before us; and in our pre- 
sence, deliver over to this afflicted family their ruined 
child, his victim. Let his eye meet the father's brow of 
burning indignation ; the mother's lip of quivering an- 
guish ; the brother's, the sister's eye, swollen with 
agony ! Listen, while the father, in behalf of this afflicted 
circle, pours forth the language of despair, over hopes 
for ever blasted, a child forever lost ! The love, the cares, 
the labors that from dawning infancy had showered their 
blessings on the child, rush to his heart ; his future course 
of increasing shame and infamy, fill his apprehensions ; 
and on you, the corrupter of his child, he fastens the 
stigma of that deep ingratitude and ruin, which are to 
fill his heart and the hearts of his household, with sorrow, 
on their future journey to the grave. 

Such is the destruction which the sinner here brings 
into the families to whose sons he has access ; 

But, once more, 

4. He destroys much good, in the community at large 
among whose rising hopes he here dwells. 

Need I remind you that they who dwell together here, 
will soon vacate these seats ; and, bidding one another 
farewell, disperse everywhere over the face of this 
country : that on them will devolve many important 
stations in life, many weighty concerns in the community. 
To these retreats of science the state looks, the church 
looks, for their supports, their pillars, their ornaments : 
for here dwell the hopes of our country, the youth of her 
pride, disciplined and trained for her future service. 
Your influence here, therefore, extends beyond the com- 
panions with whom you associate ; beyond the institu- 



44 Destructive Influence of the 



tion which fosters you ; beyond the families who have 
introduced their sons to your confidence — it extends to 
your wide country and the world. Every one whom you 
lead into ways of wisdom and virtue here, you deliver 
over to the community of your fellow men as an angel of 
mercy and blessing : every one whom you pollute with 
intemperance and lust, you hand over to it, as a demon of 
wrath and cursing. You have led a companion into in- 
temperance : see how far that destruction extends among 
your fellow men. 

You have disqualified your- victim for every useful station. 
Is he to be a husband ? Bloated with intemperance, he 
takes his lovely and confiding partner, only to wound her 
with his cruelties and to burden her with his disgrace. 
Is he to be a father? The children whom God hath 
given him, unblessed by his counsels or prayers, live to 
witness his infamy, to bear his rage, to be corrupted by 
his example. Is he a neighbor? The families which 
surround him have no enjoyment in his presence ; but 
dread him as a monster, shun him as a pestilence. Is he 
a magistrate? Alas, if any can so elevate him, his intem- 
perance, if it corrupt not justice, gives sway and currency 
to the same desolating vice in the community. 

You have withdrawn him from every good work. His 
intemperate pleasures demand his time, his attention, his 
property. On these will he wait, though every work of 
religion and humanity in the world around him should 
cease. What will he do on the earth for Christ ? That much 
loved name, the fountain of our hopes for eternity, his 
lips of pollution praise not. What for the Church ? Re- 
deemed and adorned by Christ, she stands forth the 
pattern of religion, the expectant of glory : but he comes 
not himself, he brings none within her sacred portals of 
salvation. What for ignorant, oppressed, or suffering 
humanity ? The calls of intemperance are too loud and 
urgent for him to turn aside to bless the needy ! 

You have devoted him to the work of ruin. He came 
here a sober and lovely youth ; you have sent him forth 
into the community of your fellow-men, a drunkard, a 



Transgressor in a College. 45 



prowling enemy, read)' to devour. What will he not do 
in his fits of intoxication ? Without reason ; without 
conscience ; a delirium is on his brain ; his passions are 
dark and wild as the whirlwind. As well uncage the 
monarch of the forests, and send him forth to dwell in 
amity with men. What is he, in more sober moments ? 
An idler at best ; without employment ; 'free to be occu- 
pied with schemes of evil. A vagabond, perhaps ; dis- 
gusting all with his presence, wearying all with his wants. 
A gamester ; enticing others to the card or billiard table, 
that he may gather spoils from the wreck of their for- 
tunes. A seducer ; leading by his falsehoods the hapless 
female astray to mourn, in unavailing agony, the ruin of 
her virtue. A robber, become desperate through want. 
A murderer, rendered furious by resistance, The picture 
is not too deep and melancholy to be realized ; even by 
those who are elevated to the advantages of this favored 
spot, who take to their mouths the inebriating cup and 
enkindle in their appetites an unquenchable flame. I 
knew a student once, my equal and companion ; (others 
might select examples to fill out other shades of the pic- 
ture ;) who here began to unite with companions only in 
occasional acts of intemperance. His appetite raged ; it 
became imperious ; he relinquished every useful station ; 
he abandoned every good work ; he roved a vagabond 
over the face of the land ; and a burden to society, while 
living ; he died, if I am rightly informed, by the way-side, 
neglected and alone ! 

From the thoughts I have now presented to you, is it 
not obvious, that the good which a transgressor destroys 
here, is peculiarly great ? He deals his blows at advan- 
tage, against interests most precious. Impressed with 
this momentous truth, I feel myself impelled to speak out 
its admonitions to you with the utmost candor and 
plainness. 

Is there any youth here who has been enticing his com- 
panions into scenes of dissipation ? 

Young man, whoever thou art, I charge thee before 
God and this youthful assembly, consider, seriously, what 



4.6 Destructive Influence of the 

thou hast clone. You have approached a youth in his 
ardor and inexperience. You have come nigh him in the 
garb of confidence and friendship. You have met him at 
distance from the eye of parental watchfulness, and with 
opportunities surrounding you to screen his guilt and 
yours. And what have you done ? You have led him to 
quaff deep the inebriating cup ; to enter into the pollu- 
ting embrace of the harlot. You have kindled a fever in 
his appetites that shall burn as hell. You have sprung a 
mine, whose devastation shall spread far and wide, carry- 
ing grief and desolation to many hearts. 

Come, face the account that lies recorded against thee 
in the book of God. The account shall meet thee at 
another day, in an assembly far more solemn and impos- 
ing. Meet it now. Stare at each item in the dark cata- 
logue of ruin, till it make thee tremble. Let the arrows 
-of the Almighty, the Avenger of the injured, pierce thee, 
now, with salutary smart. Repent of this, thy wicked- 
ness. Humble thyself before God and all those youth, 
who may have witnessed thy faults. And like an angel 
of rescuing mercy, flee at once to thy victim. Pluck 
him, if thou canst, from the devouring flame. Unbind 
from his hands and feet, the manacles and fetters of sin. 
Restore him to himself, to this institution, to his aggrieved 
family, to his injured country ; a man of sobriety and 
virtue, the benefactor and not the curse of mankind. And 
instead of the sorrow and mourning that now fill so many 
hearts, a wide jubilee of joy shall be proclaimed over 
thee, in heaven and on earth. 

Is there a dissipated youth here, who is determined to 
continue in his course of dissipation f 

I would hope that considerations, suggested by a sub- 
ject like this, would break down such a determination in 
every mind ; would lead such an one to serious reflection, 
to a better resolution, to a thorough reformation. But, 
if he will persist in his dissipation ; if, in defiance of every 
motive which can be urged of religion or humanity, he 
must continue to riot in his polluting pleasures ; I know 
not what counsel I can better give such a pupil than that 



Transgressor in a College. 47 



he abandon his vices at once, and seek healing at the 
fount of mercy ; or, if he will not do this, that he with- 
draw at once from this retreat of science — this depository 
of most sacred hopes. If he must be dissipated, he 
would better be anything than a student. Let him go, 
and choose, from the laborious occupations of society, his 
employment ; it will be honorable for him to labor, and 
safe to withdraw himself from temptation. The truck- 
man at his dray, the oyster-man at his barrow, pursues an 
honest employment and deserves the respect of the com- 
munity. But the dissipated student is an useless idler ; 
who well needs blush before all for his unprofitableness 
and tremble at his increasing responsibilities and sins. 

If he must and will be dissipated, better be anywhere 
than here. Let him labor in the fields : for the beasts 
thereof that plod with him and the tenants of the air that 
sing to him, he cannot corrupt. Let him traverse the 
billows of the ocean, with companions corrupt as he ; for 
the fish of the sea who sport around him, cannot drink in 
his iniquity. Let him immure himself in the shop or 
counting room ; for there the eye of a master will be con- 
stantly over him to restrain, and a surrounding world be 
more excluded from his contaminations. But let him not 
dwell in a community so open to his enticements as this ; 
let him not blast, with his corruption, these sons of pro- 
mise, — the pride of our country — the hope of the church 
and the world. 

One word of direction only to those in this community 
who arc youths of seriousness and sobriety. On you, my 
friends, devolves a most sacred duty. You know what 
precious hopes are deposited in this body ; and what de- 
vastating ravages are made upon them by every member 
of dissipated and vicious habits. Be it yours, then, not 
merely to shun every pollution yourselves, but to do 
more : to oppose its destructive progress in all around 
you. With deepened abhorrence of the evil, stand forth 
to stay its ravages. Gather like a sacred band of sen- 
tinels, around this depository of the hopes of the Church 
and your country. Guard it from the attack of ever) 7 



48 Destructive Influence of the Transgressor, etc. 



invader, however specious, apparently however friendly. 
To the counsels and labors of its instructors and guar- 
dians, lend your countenance, your efforts, your prayers 
to God. Above all, take to yourselves the whole armor 
of God : — the girdle of truth ; the breastplate of right- 
eousness ; the shield of faith ; the sword of the Spirit : — 
that you may resist every enemy that invades this nur- 
sery of the Church, with boldness and with success. Our 
interests and yours are but one. Let one high aim inspire 
the hearts of all : and that aim be to keep this sacred 
fountain pure. 

And O, Thou Spirit of Light and Joy, Guardian of thy 
Church, Inspirer of every Grace, come, with thy sacred 
fire : consume, in every breast, its destructive lusts : that 
they who go hence, may be sons of light, heirs of prom- 
ise, angels of soothing and rescuing mercy, in this guilty, 
polluted, bleeding, weeping world. 



THE GOOD PORTION THAT IS NEVER TAKEN 

A WA K. 



LUKE X : 42. 
Mary hath chosen that good part which shall not be taken away 

FROM HER. 

This commendation was passed by Jesus while visiting 
at the house of Martha in Bethany. On this visit, it 
seems that Mary, desirous above all things to receive the 
gracious instructions of her guest, sat humbly at his feet 
to hear his word. But Martha, though, as appears from 
other parts of the history, she was a friend and disciple 
of Jesus, was so anxious to spread her table with a pro- 
fusion of dishes to gratify the bodily appetites of the 
social circle, as that she lost in a great measure to her 
soul the spiritual advantages which she might have de- 
rived from the word and presence of her divine visitor. 
This worldly anxiety, as is its usual result, betrayed her 
into impatience: and she came into the presence of Jesus 
and Mary, interrupting their holy communion with this 
querulous language : " Lord, carest thou not that my 
sister hath left me to serve alone ? bid her therefore that 
she help me." But as is usually the case with one who is 
censorious and petulant, she was herself the person most 
needing reproof. Jesus, in order to call off her attention 
from her sister and fix it on herself, repeats her name : 
Martha ! Martha ! and then briefly contrasts her worldli- 
ness with the spirituality of her sister. " Thou art care- 
ful and troubled about many things " — the things you will 
prepare, the manner of preparing them, your own hard 
service, and what you think your sister's sloth and indif- 
ference — things relating to the wants of the body ; " but 
one thing is needful " — to beings who have a soul there is 

8 



50 Marys Choice. 



one thing of which they have absolute need ; which 
forms a supreme concern ; for which they may well relin- 
quish their worldly anxieties ; — -the enjoyment to be de- 
rived from the knowledge, the favor, the service and 
communion of God : and then, to remind her that Mary 
on this particular occasion had acted wisely and in char- 
acter, and as she herself to be consistent with her profes- 
sion ought to have done, he adds : " Mary hath chosen 
that good part which shall not be taken away from her." 
Her choice is fixed on a better portion than worldly 
things and she has manifested it on this occasion. The 
Saviour calls it a good part which she chose — or, as 
the Greek term may be rendered, " lot " or " portion." 
For the word means a lot or portion to be enjoyed, and 
not, as the English might admit, a part or character to 
sustain in the conduct of life. 

The example of Mary, therefore, as presented to us in 
this description of the Saviour, shows us that there is a 
satisfying portion offered to our acceptance which wJien chosen 
will never be taken azvay. 

In more fully treating this subject, I will attempt to 
show, 

I. What is that good portion which was chosen of Mary ; 

II. The fact that it must be chosen by all those who 
would have it as their own ; and, 

III. That when chosen by any, it will never be taken azvay. 
I. Your attention is first invited to the nature of that 

good portion which was chosen of Mary. 

Now if you will but observe the conduct of Mary at 
the time when Jesus passed this commendation upon her 
character, you will see that the thing which she chose for 
herself above all others was the friendship of God which 
was brought to her acceptance and enjoyment by the 
presence of Jesus Christ. Like a sinner needing salva- 
tion and dependent for it on that Saviour who came into 
this guilty world from the Father with the word of 
Eternal Life, she humbly placed herself at his feet to 
receive this free and bounteous gift at his hands. Dis- 
missing every other care and every other thought for the 



Marys Choice. 5 I 



time ; and knowing that the Saviour who could restore to 
her the friendship of God and lead her more fully into 
the enjoyment of it, was near, she listened with all her 
heart to his word of counsel, instruction, reproof and 
comfort, as involving in it all her happiness for this life 
and eternity. His word was the means of guiding her 
more fully to the enjoyment of this highest object of her 
wishes — an object for which she postponed every other 
care, for which she renounced every other pleasure, and 
for the full enjoyment of which she was eager to improve 
every occasion, — and especially one so favorable as was 
vouchsafed to her at this time by the presence and word 
of Jesus, who came direct to her from the throne of God 
with the full offer of salvation, and whose society she 
could hope but seldom to receive in the house of her 
pilgrimage. 

If this conduct of Mary shows that the thing which she 
chose as the portion of her soul was an interest in the 
friendship of the great. Jehovah, the same thing is still 
more clearly shown by the characteristics which Christ 
attributed to the portion of her choice as being the one 
thing which to sinful men is altogether needful and which 
is in every respect good. 

The friendship of God is the one thing which is alto- 
gether needful to sinful men. For by their voluntary 
departure from God, they have not merely deprived 
themselves of his friendship : they have fallen under his 
positive displeasure and wrath. For in going after other 
objects of enjoyment, and thus setting up idols in their 
hearts, they are guilty of despising all the goodness of 
God their Creator, disrespecting his high authority, 
trampling on his law of benevolence and holiness, -and 
thus they fall under that penalty of his endless dis- 
pleasure which he, out of righteous regard to the holiness 
and happiness of his moral kingdom, has affixed to the 
violation of his law. To mankind therefore who have 
fallen under condemnation by the law of God and are 
subject to his everlasting displeasure, the one thing which 
above all others is needful, is the restoration and enjoy- 



52 Marys Choice. 



meat of the favor of God. For there is no being in the 
universe that can afford them the relief they need, so long 
as they remain alienated from him and subject to his 
wrath. Nor can they find relief in the temporary bene- 
factions which they receive from his long-suffering good- 
ness : which they are only abusing and provoking him to 
withdraw from them forever so long as they remain sub- 
ject to his wrath. And there is nothing which he can 
himself do for them which will afford them any relief, 
short of their restoration back to the enjoyment of his 
friendship. As long as they remain destitute of this one 
thing, they must be subjects of his wrath. And if they 
continue such, the day must speedily come when they must 
be removed from all his abused benefits ; and, stripped of 
every source of enjoyment in the universe, must lie down 
in the everlasting burnings of shame and degradation 
and despair, — hopeless outcasts from the love of God and 
from his happy kingdom ; despairing sufferers in the 
everlasting torments which come from his righteous judg- 
ment. To souls then which have fallen by their sin under 
his displeasure, the one portion which they absolutely 
need ; without which they must be forever wretched and 
ruined ; without which all the high capacities of the soul 
and its everlasting existence must prove but a deeper 
curse, — is the restoration and enjoyment of the friendship 
of God. 

This one portion too is the only one in the universe 
which is absolutely and relatively good. 

This is the only portion man can enjoy which is abso- 
lutely good. For every other species of happiness taken 
in separation from the love and friendship of God, can- 
not afford any solid peace and satisfaction to the soul. It 
is alloyed, at the very time it is most enjoyed, with the 
reflection that it is separating the heart still farther from 
God and filling it more with the feelings of worldly idol- 
atry and sin. But in seeking and enjoying the friendship 
of the infinite God, the soul feels conscious that it ascends 
to the very source of all blessing and enters into the pos- 
session of a love which commands all the gifts which are 



Mary's Choice. 53 

in the universe, — a love which fills the soul with a purity 
and peace which are satisfying to its largest desires, which 
will render every other inferior enjoyment doubly rich, 
which will extract from every sorrow of this life and from 
death itself the stings of an accusing conscience and divine 
wrath. Here in the presence of God and beneath the 
light of his countenance, with his love shed abroad in the 
heart b} T the Holy Spirit, the soul is filled with a peace 
and joy in God which passeth all understanding. 

The friendship of God is a portion too which is rela- 
tively good. When the soul seeks this portion for itself, 
it invades the happiness of no other being in the universe. 
It stands in a right attitude towards all. Not only are its 
own capacities of enjoyment filled from the fountain of 
living waters to which it repairs, but the benevolence of 
the infinite God is gratified in taking charge of the soul 
that honors him by casting itself wholly on his love. And 
in repairing to his benevolent love for its happiness, the 
soul too is filled with benevolent sympathies for that 
kingdom which is deriving its happiness from the same 
pure source; and with deep solicitude for the sinful and 
guilty lost who are wandering away from it into hopeless 
exile and misery. The soul that with all the heart 
cleaves to the love of God for its own portion of joy, is 
thus filled with desire to imitate the love of its Father in 
heaven, to fulfil his sweet commands, and to aid in those 
works in his kingdom which redound to his praise and 
the welfare of his creatures. 

The portion then which Mary chose for her soul was 
that needful and good portion which was brought down 
to her acceptance by the presence of Jesus Christ — even 
the enjoyment of the friendship of God. 

II. This portion must be chosen by all those who would 
have it as theirs. 

Mary, it seems from the declaration of Christ, chose 
the friendship of God for herself as her portion of happi- 
ness. She considered the friendship of the Infinite God 
as brought down by Jesus Christ to her free acceptance. 
She knew that she could not receive and enjoy it while 



54 Mary s Choice. 



she remained indifferent to it and set her heart supremely 
on other objects. Refusing- all other objects, therefore, in- 
consistent with it, she chose this with all her heart as the 
object of her happiness, and in this way — so far as her 
own conduct was concerned — it became hers. She actu- 
ally enjoyed that friendship which with all her heart she 
chose. And so must it ever be with all who would enjoy 
the friendship of God — they must seek it with all the 
heart. And there are various considerations, beside this 
explicit declaration concerning Mary, which show that in 
order to enjoy the friendship of God, men must choose it 
with their whole heart as their supreme portion. I ob- 
serve, therefore, as evidence of such a truth : 

i. That in the Gospel God proffers his friendship to 
men for their choice and acceptance. 

" This constitutes the very difference between the law of 
God and the Gospel. In his holy law he denounces a 
curse against all sin, and brings all men as sinners under 
the sentence of condemnation. And if he had never pub- 
lished to the world any other message, he would place all 
in a state of absolute despair and under the inevitable 
endurance of his wrath. But the gospel is the annuncia- 
tion to men of the glad tidings that with their offended 
Lawgiver there is pardoning mercy and recovering grace 
adequate to all their need. Here he offers freely to re- 
move from their souls the sentence of his wrath and 
restore to them his everlasting favor. There can be no 
doubt nor mistake on this point which is so essential to 
the salvation of guilty men. The very object for which 
he sent his Son into the world and consented to the pains 
of his crucifixion was to render it consistent with his 
rectitude to offer this reconciliation to the acceptance of 
our guilty race. On that basis the offer is now published 
to the world. And accompanying the offer are published 
most earnest entreaties, most solemn warnings, most 
touching expostulations and imperious commands, that 
they immediately avail themselves of the offered grace ; 
that they receive it not in vain. 



Marys Choice. 55 



If therefore the reconciliation and friendship of God is 
thus freely offered to men, it is most obviously presented 
to them as an object which they must either accept or 
refuse. For the very fact of offering this reconciliation 
shows that it is not conferred independently of all choice ; 
that so long as men refuse it, so long as they remain in- 
different to it, so long as they prefer their sins and idols 
to the friendship of God, that friendship will not be 
theirs. And on the other hand, the offer shows that God 
is perfectly willing to bestow his friendship upon any one 
who does in reality seek it with the heart as all his salva- 
tion and all his desire. Let any one, I sa}?, make the full 
and hearty choice of the friendship of God as his portion, 
and he will be permitted to enter into that source of pure 
and endless enjoyment. For how can God, consistently 
Avith such an offer, turn away from his throne with refusal 
the heart that comes to him desiring his reconciliation 
and favor above all idols, and sins, and all inferior joys ? — 
a heart that gives up evervthing for his favor and that 
prefers it as its portion above all things else which God 
can give ? 

The necessity of choosing this favor, in order to have 
it as ours, will appear still further, if we consider, 

2. That the nature of God's friendship is such that it can- 
not be taken by us without choice. The fact that it is offer- 
ed would show that it is not bestowed absolutely as an ob- 
ject independent of our choice ; its nature I will now attempt 
to show is such that it cannot be. And on this point, I 
apprehend people often indulge a great mistake by which 
they attempt to excuse themselves for the great indiffer- 
ence of heart which they feel in respect to so supreme 
and necessary a good which involves in it their whole 
salvation. Because they see that God is an infinite and 
independent Being, who has created them and who be- 
stows on them many benefits without their care, they say 
that he can bestow on them the highest benefit, even the 
friendship of his heart and their eternal salvation, just as 
independently of their choice. But in this view they lose 
sight entirely of the fact that he is a Moral Being, seek- 



56 Marys Choice. 



ing, as the great object of his reign over the universe, the 
happiness of intelligent and voluntary beings like him- 
self; and that there is just and precisely the same neces- 
sity, if he would do good to such a kingdom, that he 
dispense his favor and displeasure on his subjects with 
relation to their voluntary conduct, as there is that a good 
father should do so to his children, or a wise and faithful 
ruler should do so to his subjects. If therefore it be con- 
sidered that men have offended him and fallen under his 
displeasure in this very way by disregarding the design 
of his benevolent government and seeking their happiness 
in objects and ways which he has forbidden, it is evi- 
dently impossible that while they adhere to their wrong 
choice they should ever receive his friendship. And it is 
obvious, that whatever else the atonement of Jesus Christ 
may have effected, it has not removed this invincible 
necessity of subjecting all our interests to the govern- 
ment of God by a hearty choice of his friendship, if we 
would take that friendship as ours. The atonement of 
Christ and the offer of reconciliation made on the basis of 
it, shows indeed this glorious truth to the guilty, — that 
past separation from God and past condemnation by his 
law for our sins, do not stand in our way as impassable 
barriers to such an impiediate and hearty return to the 
love of our Father in heaven. But they have not re- 
moved, and never will remove the necessity which arises 
out of the very nature of God and ourselves as intelligent 
and voluntary beings, that if we would avail ourselves of 
the opportunity of reconciliation now granted us, we 
must renounce those chosen portions which have alien- 
ated us from God and choose his glorious friendship as 
our supreme hope and joy. Otherwise we shall still 
remain alienated from him in our hearts, insubmissive to 
his benevolent and holy government, with our wills per- 
versely bent on our individual, selfish and sinful gratifi- 
cation ; and how can we expect, while retaining such 
feelings of opposition to his government, to receive his 
reconciling and saving mercv ? Do you say that with all 
these feelings of insubmission, you can still choose his re- 



Marys CJwice. 57 

conciliation and friendship? But if you suppose this, you 
only deceive yourself. You may indeed be willing that he 
should remove from you his displeasure and become a friend 
to you, while you are still pursuing your course of sin and 
opposition to his holy government. But in all this, the 
real choice of your heart is to take the happiness which 
you can find in other objects than God ; and in your own 
ways of disobedience. You in reality refuse the joy of 
his reconciliation and friendship. Your wish to receive 
his favor is in reality no other than the choice that he 
would renounce the benevolence and holiness of his moral 
government, and leave you to go forward unmolested in 
your sins. To choose his friendship as your portion, you 
must take it as it is: valuing it supreme^ for the very 
reason that he is so good and holy ; and renouncing, for 
it, everything inconsistent with its enjoyment. If you 
will thus accept of his friendship, if you will seek it with 
all your heart as the thing most desirable to your soul, if 
you will make that hearty choice of it that, for entering 
into its enjoy^ment, you will cheerfully take on yourself all 
the humiliation, and renunciation of self and sin, and de- 
votion to his service which in his holiness and grace he 
requires, it is yours. If he is willing to be reconciled to 
any 7 of mankind and receive them to his Fatherly care 
and love, it is to such as thus choose to cast themselves 
and all their interests on his care and redemption, and to 
seek their everlasting all in his pure and \\o\y friendship. 

But still farther to show that his friendship* becomes 
ours hy our choosing it with all the heart as our supreme 
portion, I observe again, 

3. That such a choice is necessary^ for entering heartily 
into the privileges and duties of his children. There can 
be no doubt that they^ who with all their heart enjoys the 
privileges and perform the duties of his children are in- 
terested in his forgiving and adopting love. And in order 
to see that a hearty entrance and continuance on these 
privileges and duties depends on choosing the love of 
God as our portion, you need only to look at one very 
simple and plain principle — that the heart can cleave 

9 



58 Marys Choice. 



only to one supreme portion : and that portion must be, 
either the selfish happiness derived from the world, or the 
happiness found in the favor and benevolent service of 
God. From this principle it is clear that either the world 
must be renounced for Christ or Christ must be renounced 
for the world ; there cannot be any compromise in the 
real choice of the heart between them. And in choosing 
to derive your happiness from Christ himself rather than 
from things around you in his creation, you cannot pos- 
sibly be wrong, unless it be wrong to take happiness above 
all things in the love of Christ and the benevolent service 
to which that love leads us. And with this hearty choice 
of the friendship of Christ, that renounces all things for 
the sake of his love and cleaves to his love as all, every 
Christian privilege is entered on and every Christian duty 
is performed with a devoted and cheerful heart. The 
-Scriptures are read and the throne of grace is resorted to 
in prayer, with constancy- and delight as the very means 
and privileges which are designed to bring Christians 
more fully into the enjoyment of that grace of God on 
which they rest their hearts. And duties are performed 
and sin is resisted with a full and cheerful purpose of 
heart, for the sake of continuing and advancing in the 
enjoyment of that benevolent and holy love of God which 
is chosen as all the happiness of the soul to eternity. 
There is no other way in which a sinner can enter heart- 
ily into the privileges and duties of a child of God, or go 
forward with the strength of grace in the Christian con- 
flict with temptation and sin, than by renouncing as a lost 
and humbled sinner that portion in the world that has 
withdrawn his heart and all his powers from God, and 
choosing God in Christ as the Friend in whose love and 
under whose benevolent government he would find his 
portion of joy for ever. 

But I proceed to show you, 

III. That this is a portion which when chosen by any 
will not be taken away from them. 

This surely is the testimony of jesus Christ. For the 
very r same portion is offered to the guilty now which was 



Marys Choice. 59 

► 

chosen of Mary, and if it was true in her case, that in 
choosing this portion for herself it was secured to her for- 
ever, there is the same reason in the nature of the portion 
itself and the free offer made of it to others, that it should 
be secured to them also, on their choice of it, for eternity. 
And there are various considerations which go to confirm 
this animating truth, besides this declaration and other 
declarations of the Scriptures equally explicit : A few of 
these considerations I will now present to your view. 
And, 

1. The expense at which God offers to sinners his 
friendship shows that he designs it when accepted by 
them for an inalienable gift. If you wish for convincing 
proof that his grace is thus full and ample, look to the 
sacrifice which he has freely made for us on Calvary. He 
has consented that his Beloved Son should leave the 
throne of heaven, and that, taking upon him the load of 
our sins, he should go to the cross and bear the indigna- 
tion for us which we deserved, in order that the endless 
penalty of his law might be freely removed from our 
souls, and we be restored to the joys of his friendship as 
dear children. Could the heart that voluntarily endured 
all this trial in order to remove from us the penalty of 
death and restore us again to his friendship, design any 
less a gift than our restoration to his endless love ? Could 
he leave us, after reconciliation and after the restoration 
of his love, to fall back again to endless condemnation ? 
Could he, by his own act of the withdrawal of his fatherly 
love, render the cross which had reconciled us of no 
effect? The thought of such a withdrawal of his favor, is 
totally inconsistent with that strength of desire which he 
has manifested for our recovery in the mission of his Son 
and the appointment of his crucifixion. No ! The heart 
that conceived such a gift, was full of desire for our re- 
covery from endless death and our enjoyment of his 
blessed favor and reign to all eternity. He surveyed the 
full length and breadth of our wants ; and, in his bene- 
volence, determined fully to meet them. In the cross, we 
have full testimony that his benevolence and grace arc 



6o Marys Choice. 



thus large and free. " He that spared not his own Son 
but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him 
also freety give us all things? " What can ever overcome 
such intense love ? What can ever alienate it from those 
who repair to it with all their heart and make it all their 
desire and hope for eternity ? 

He will never take away his friendship from those who 
choose it as their supreme and everlasting portion ; be- 
cause, 

2. They will need it for their happiness through all 
eternity. There will never be a time during their im- 
mortal existence when he can withdraw from them his 
friendship and care without depriving them of the happi- 
ness for which their very natures were designed, and 
leaving them desolate and wretched and hopeless forever. 
And why should he voluntarily withdraw his friendship 
from such dependent and needy creatures who have 
sprung from his own creating hand, when with all their 
heart they throw themselves on his care? There is no 
need now of executing upon them the penalty of his law 
in order to maintain his authority. He can freely dis- 
pense with their punishment on account of the atonement 
he has accepted at the hands of his Son. And the very 
fact that he once enters into reconciliation with them and 
receives them to the enjoyment of his friendship, is a full 
acknowledgment on his part that he is not bound by 
such a necessity. There is nothing therefore to hinder 
his consulting the everlasting wants of their souls. And 
will he not as freely bestow his friendship for eternity as 
for a limited time? The very act of coming forward to 
seek their reconciliation, shows that he desires their wel- 
fare. And when they come with all their hearts to 
receive the gift and seek to share in the largeness of his 
mercy to the guilty, will he ever think of turning them 
away empty, and driving them from his presence and 
love ? Would not this be a needless neglect of their 
wants? Is this the goodness of the infinite and all-suffi- 
cient Creator? Will he treat thus the souls that he has 
made? Will he, when on his invitation they come to him 



Marys Choice. 61 



for their soul's salvation, knowing that he is the only 
being on whom they can depend for it, and that he can 
grant them their desire without injuring any in his king- 
dom, — will he receive them merely for a day or a few 
years, and then cast them off from his love to destitution 
and hopeless misery forever? The heart that calls us 
back to his love and kingdom has surely felt for our deep 
necessities as immortal beings and dependent creatures, 
and is more bounteous than to forsake us in all our need, 
when self-abased for our sin we put all our confidence in 
him for an endless salvation. " I will not," says this 
High and Lofty One, to sinners who are broken off from 
all self-confidence and self-sufficiency and who look to 
Him alone for their eternal hope and joy, — " I will not 
contend forever, neither will I be always wroth, for the 
spirit should fail before me, and the souls which I have 
made." He feels an interest in lost sinners as deep as 
their endless wants, and he would not invite them back 
to the care of his friendship and love without a perfect 
willingness, and even an ardent desire, that on their return 
they should freely share in his holy friendship to all 
eternity. 

I will only add, 

3. That to such as choose to enjoy his friendship and 
live under the care of his holy government to eternity, 
he has granted already all the means necessary to their 
everlasting continuance in his love. He has placed his 
word of instruction, counsel and authority in their hands, 
accompanied with the free offer of his grace, to which 
they can resort through all the pilgrimage of this life, 
and rest their souls on his promises. He has elevated 
his Son to the throne as their living intercessor, through 
whom they may freely repair to his throne of mercy in 
all their wants. He has sent his Holy Spirit as a friend 
to their spiritual welfare, on whom they can rely at all 
times to help and guide them in the way to heaven. And 
w T ith all these aids to help them forward to the chosen 
object of their heart — the everlasting enjoyment of his 
love, — what is there in the universe that can separate them 



62 Mary s Choice. 

from this love? God is for them, and who or what can be 
against them and prevail ? Shall sin again have dominion 
over them ? But they are not under bare law which con- 
demns them, but under the care of a grace which is suffi- 
cient for their victory, and to it they may constantly repair 
for strength. Will Satan or the ungodly prevail over 
them ? They have a Friend mightier than all their foes, 
in the shelter of whose love they are strong and bold to 
resist. Will the joys or sorrows that come upon them in 
their earthly lot, withdraw their hearts from God ? But 
the Lord in whom they trust, is the dispenser of every 
earthly providence ; and no temptation will he suffer to 
come upon them which they are not able to bear, and in 
all he opens to them a way of escape in their free access 
to his all-sufficient grace. Will death separate them 
from the God in whom they hope ? But in that hour he 
is as near as ever to take care of the body and spirit 
which they resign to his disposal. Will the day of judg- 
ment bring upon them any sentence of separation from 
God ? But the God who offered them the pardon of all 
their sins and to whom they fled for reconciliation, will 
confirm that pardon before his whole kingdom. Nor can 
impenitent men or fallen angels in their envy and malice, 
bring any accusation against them which will prevail 
over his pardoning mercy. They, therefore, who really 
renounce their sins before God, and choose an interest in 
his love for their immortal souls, have the portion of their 
choice secured to them through life, at death and the 
judgment, and to all eternity in heaven. Nor shall life or 
death, things present or things to come, or any creature, 
all which are under his control, be able to separate them 
from his love. 

Such, then, is the evidence I have presented to show 
that there is a satisfying portion which may be chosen by 
us, which will never be taken away. 

I remark, in closing, 

i. That God is fully willing that sinners should secure 
their own everlasting happiness. 

He is not willing, indeed, that they should be eternally 



Mary s Choice. 63 



happy in departing from him in their affections. His 
benevolent regard to his moral creation requires that, if 
they continue in that course, he should abandon them to 
destruction. But although men have wilfully and per- 
versely entered on that course, he has met them in his 
grace with the offer of a free remission of the penalty 
and the everlasting friendship of his heart, as their inherit- 
ance of joy, if they will return to him in true repentance. 
And now nothing remains but that you take with your 
whole heart the portion he offers. 

This responsibility he casts upon you. But in casting 
this responsibility on you, he shows a perfect willingness 
that you should secure that happiness. For this respon- 
sibility is a necessary result of his creating you rational 
and voluntary beings. And unless you were such beings, 
he could not possibly bring you into the blessedness of a 
communion in his love and friendship. And with this 
responsibility lying upon you, and when you had forfeited 
the care of his government by forsaking him, he has not 
onl} T brought that friendship down to your choice at all 
the expense of making an atonement for your sins, but he 
urges on you the choice of it with all the solicitude of a 
true Friend to your everlasting happiness : saying, " turn 
ye, for why will ye die? " And his Spirit often strives for 
the very purpose of inducing you to renounce all things 
for a portion in his love. And now when nothing re- 
mains but your own choice, is he not fully willing? If 
you will now with all your heart renounce your supreme 
attachment to the world and choose the friendship of his 
heart as your supreme joy, if you will thus turn to God 
in your hearts in true repentance— if you will forsake all 
things for Christ and his love, the Spirit of grace who 
strives with you to bring you to that very choice, will 
lead you forward in it to all eternity. The God of grace 
to whose redeeming love you cleave, will conduct you 
up to one height of grace after another through the 
temptations of this life, and convey you safely through 
the vale of death and beyond his judgment seat, and place 
your purified and happy^ spirit among the ransomed in 
heaven. 



64 Marys Choice. 



And will you complain now, that he is unwilling- that 
you should find eternal happiness under his government ? 
Will you stand cleaving to this world as all your joy- 
renouncing the service and friendship of God ; and at the 
very time you are refusing his endless love, will you com- 
plain of him as an enemy to your welfare? Will you 
throw on him the blame of that very separation from him, 
to which with all the heart you yourselves are clinging? 
Will you find fault with him for giving you souls capable 
of endless happiness and misery, because you are tearing 
them away from the blessedness of his government? 
Treat not thus that God who is love, and who meets you 
in the midst of your wilful alienation and unjust com- 
plaints, with the offer of endless reconciliation through 
Christ. He is not the God of hatred and injustice which 
you pretend. But you are the unjust and ungrateful 
rebels against him which he declares. And if you will 
not confess it and renounce your sin, while he offers you 
his grace, he will roll on you before his whole kingdom 
the everlasting shame and contempt of despising his love, 
and will leave you to your own choice of separation 
forever to eternity. 

Once more ; 

2. The everlasting interests of your souls urge you to 
choose immediately for your portion the friendship of 
God. 

The Lord who made your souls, who knows that all 
their happiness depends on their union to his love, has 
brought down his endless grace with all its benefits and 
offered it to your acceptance through Christ Jesus. And 
the great and practical inquiry arises : will you accept this 
happiness as the portion of your souls? Will you betake 
yourselves to the Lord Jesus Christ ; and renouncing 
every other dependence, choose him as your Redeemer 
and Lord for eternity, surrendering all that you have and 
are to him, expecting henceforth all your happiness from 
his friendship and love? You must come to this renun- 
ciation of all things for Christ, or remain unreconciled 
and at distance from him cleaving to your sins. There is 



Marys Choice. 65 

no dispensing with your own choice in this matter. 
There is no influence of the Spirit of God that will ever 
take you out of these circumstances of responsibility, or 
that will or can ever lead you to salvation in any other 
way than through your own hearty choice of communion 
and friendship with God. The everlasting interests of 
your souls then are suspended on your choosing the good 
portion which Christ now offers. 

And why should you not choose it with all your heart ? 
God is willing. He is desirous. And is not the happi- 
ness to be found in his favor and communion, the most 
exalted to which your souls can aspire ? Is it not worthy 
to be chosen by you w T ith all the heart ? Is it so ? May 
you bring that soul of yours under his fatherly- love and 
care to all eternity 7 ; and will y 7 ou d'espise such a gift? 
Will y 7 ou tear that soul away T from those everlasting bles- 
sings, which are to come from his benevolent reign ? And 
why? What causes are there that y r ou will permit to 
operate so far as to keep y 7 ou away from the love of 
Christ? Are they T the possessions of this world — its 
wealth, pleasures, honors? But he only 7 forbids y T ou to 
cleave to these as your supreme portion, and to pursue 
them with all your heart. He calls for y^our heart himself, 
and will still leave many 7 of these possessions with y T ou as 
his steward. Or is it regard to the favor of man or to the 
fear of man's displeasure? But what can man do for y 7 our 
soul, if for his sake y r ou should refuse the portion it needs 
in the infinite God? And if y r ou should cast y T our soul on 
the care of Almighty 7 grace and have God for y^our 
helper, what need y T ou fear what man can do unto y T ou ? 
Or shall pride hinder y ou ? Shall a dy T ing sinner who is 
on the brink of endless ruin, feel so self-sufficient that he 
will not seek after God? — a poor, guilty T and condemned 
criminal, who is about to be consigned to perpetual dark- 
ness and pain, be ashamed penitently 7 to accept deliver- 
ance before all from his offended God ? 

And now will y 7 ou not make the wise and happy T choice 
to which the Gospel calls y 7 ou ? Will y 7 ou refuse a por- 
tion in the love of God, and cleave to the base and 

10 



66 Mary s Choice. 



momentary pleasures of the world and sin? Will you go 
forward to eternity an alien from God, and wilfully de- 
prive that soul of yours of all the joys of God's eternal 
kingdom, and place it irretrievably and beyond redemp- 
tion in all the degradation and anguish of eternal punish- 
ment? Look up to the glory of that God who made this 
mighty universe and rolls the spheres through the bound- 
less firmament. See that heart of love ready to receive 
you as a child, and conduct you forward to the holiness 
and joy that are to flow on his kingdom from his benevo- 
lent government through the eternal ages to come. He 
knows what a boundless good he is preparing for the 
immortal minds he has made ; and he invites you to come 
up and take your portion in his love and kingdom. 
Christ who died for you, is willing. The Spirit who 
strives with you, is willing. The angels who welcome 
back the penitent, are willing. The Church Avho plead 
with you and pray for you, are willing. You need not 
perish. Cleave then no longer to the world and sin and 
perdition. Moved by the grace of God, say from the 
heart, " I will arise and go to my Father." Let his 
righteousness receive its honors in the cross. Let his 
grace receive its honors in your salvation. 



THE POWER OF TRUST. 



PSALM CXII : 7. 



He shall not be afraid of evil tidings : his heart is fixed, trusting in 

the Lord. 

This, the Psalmist testifies, is the happy lot of the 
righteous man. With a heart throbbing with all the sen- 
sibilities of life, exposed to all the sources of evil that are 
overwhelming others, he has found for it a point of rest, 
that is exalted above every evil : he has anchored it firm 
and fast in the haven of immortal security, forever be- 
yond the raging tempest: and with a heart thus fixed and 
established, he can triumph over the power of evil : in 
view of the unseen and untried future, he is not afraid of 
any tidings of overwhelming evil. This happy lot is 
secured to him by trusting in the Lord ; by looking to 
the Lord alone for his welfare, surrendering all his in- 
terests for time and eternity implicitly to his disposal ; 
submitting everything to the decision of his will ; own- 
ing him with childlike dependence as a wise, forgiving 
and faithful Father alike in days of prosperity and adver- 
sity ; and expecting from him steadily a complete deliver- 
ance out of all evil and an exaltation to endless joy in his 
kingdom. 

That we may secure this happy lot of the righteous 
man, let us consider his act of trust, and its power to 
strengthen and establish his heart for a triumph over evil. 

The act of trust in God I will however first describe, 
and then show its efficacy thus to establish the heart. 

I. To trust is to commit some interest of ours into the 
hands of another, in the belief that he is competent and 
willing to manage it for us, and with the expectation that 
he will make it good. 



68 The Power of Trust. 



II. It must be some interest of ours— that in which, 
directly or indirectly, immediately or remotely, our wel- 
fare or feelings are concerned— otherwise we have no- 
thing to trust. 

III. We must believe the trustee capable and willing — 
and expect him to be faithful, — to secure the interests we 
commit to him ; otherwise we squander them rather than 
trust them for security. 

An estate, for instance, falls to you in your minority, 
which you are incompetent to manage with safety your- 
self; and which, as you are deprived of the natural guar- 
dian of your youth by the decease of your parent, must, 
if kept from running to waste, be entrusted to the care of 
some other person. Now in your act of trust you choose 
some individual, willing to take that care upon him, as 
your guardian and trustee, to whose management you 
commit it, in the belief that he is worthy of the trust, and 
with the expectation that he will keep it safe unto the 
day for your complete possession. Thus you are not to 
trust without committing some interest of yours to the 
keeping of another, nor without believing the trustee 
capable. For to place your interests in incapable hands, 
would be to throw them away to the sport of mere 
chance. Nor are you to trust without expecting the 
guardian to be faithful. For to put your interests into 
the hands of the faithless, would be to squander them 
away on the support of injustice or crimes. 

The act is essentially the same when the guardian to 
whom we commit our interests is God. We commit 
them to his care, in the belief of his competency and 
willingness, and with the expectation that he will keep 
them safe for our possession. Onty the trust is distin- 
guished from all others, by the extent of the interests enu- 
merated in our deed of trust, by the qualities of God our 
Guardian which fit him to take them in charge, and by 
the solemn forms in which he conveys his promises and 
engagements that he will be faithful to secure them for us 
to eternity. 






The Power of Trust. 69 



Before God we are all minors, incapable of securing to 
ourselves the estate of immortal glory and blessedness 
which is the original birthright of his rational creatures. 
Nay worse : we are perverse and rebellious children, who 
have taken the chief management into our own hands, 
and refused it to him, our natural Guardian : and thus by 
our unnatural separation and our unrighteous rebellion, 
have forfeited our whole estate in his love and kingdom, 
and are in imminent hazard of final and utter disinherit- 
ance. In this situation we all are when the good tidings 
of promise reach us — a promise essentially the same in 
all past ages and the foundation of trust to all his right- 
eous servants, but which is more amply set forth and 
more widely published in these last days, in the Gospel of 
his Son — the promise that he will, notwithstanding the 
past, act as the Parental Guardian of all who will return 
to him and entrust the management of their immortal 
interests to his hands ; and that he will see them put into 
the full and happy possession of an immortal inheritance 
in his kingdom at the last day. 

Many, indeed, who hear the tidings refuse the offer. 
They persist in venturing all upon their own management 
still ; and, in continued alienation and rebellion, they 
either — like the prodigal — squander every remaining gift 
and bounty of God on their own lusts, careless and un- 
regardful of the future ; or — like the Pharisee — while 
equally estranged from God in heart and abusing to equal 
perversion all his gifts, vainly attempt to build on their 
hollow ceremonies that over-stock of merit with which to 
purchase from God, after they have squandered their 
earthly portion on sin, that heavenly one for which they 
have rendered themselves unfit, and which they have 
scorned to receive as his gift. But — unlike the thoughtless 
prodigal worldling, or the deluded victim of self-righteous 
pride, — the righteous man accepts the proposal of God 
made in Christ Jesus : returns to him submissively, chooses 
him as the Guardian of his well-being, entrusts all to his 
keeping, with unshaken belief in his faithfulness. He has 
learned,, from the little he has seen of himself and his 



jo The Power of Trust. 



fellow men, from the teachings of his own nature and of 
providence, the utter vanity of cleaving to an earthly 
portion in separation from God : how the heart is all disturb- 
ance and agitation, from the conscious sense of ill desert, 
ingratitude and unworthiness ; from the insecurity of the 
portion to which it clings ; from the temptations it offers 
to increasing sin ; from the brood of evil passions it en- 
genders : and he is sick of its emptiness. He has learned 
too, that he cannot possibly manage by himself to secure 
true and lasting riches in the kingdom of God — the hea- 
venly portion. The evils of unworthiness, dissatisfaction, 
temptation, malicious passion, which are the only abiding 
fruit of his course of separation, are crowding upon him 
with ever greater force, and must make his everlasting 
portion forfeit, and forever detain him under their power, 
— an exile from the happiness that reigns in the holy and 
immortal kingdom of the Creator — unless he return to 
him and seek the help of his mightier power. 

It is with these heartfelt convictions, troubled and dis- 
satisfied with his erring courses, conscious that he is 
astray from God and must lose all if he continues so, and 
yet hardly daring to think that his Creator can forgive the 
past or do anything for him in the future, that'his eye meets 
the written promise of God, which assures him that there 
is yet a way to secure the birthright of a child in his 
eternal love and kingdom ; that if he will make Him his 
Guardian, and come, committing in good faith and in well 
doing all his welfare to his disposal, all his sins will be 
readily forgiven him, and he shall have kept and made 
sure to him an eternal portion in heaven. He reads the 
word of God. He is convinced that the record has been 
made by his eternal Creator ; that it has been published 
by him in good faith ; that he is disposed and able to 
make it good. He believes the record. And now his 
trust begins. In the resolve of a trusting soul, he says 
within himself, ' I will go to my offended God with this 
sorrowing and bursting heart. I will ask his forgiveness 
for the past, and implore him to be the Guardian of my 
immortal interests.' He makes out, in his mind, his deed 



The Power of Trust. 7 1 



of trust. He includes in it his whole being with all its 
capacities and powers, He surrenders all, he commits 
all, in good faith, to the care of the faithful Creator. He 
goes with it into his presence ; declares it to be his free 
will and deed ; subscribes it before him with his own 
hand ; and lodges it with him for a testimony. 

And now his joy begins. His heart is fixed by this 
deed of trust to the source of safety and rest. And he 
keeps it fixed, by continued trust — by holding on to his 
Guardian, to his word and throne of grace : submitting 
all to him and receiving all from him, in good faith. So 
it is by trusting — by the act of trust continued truly and in 
good faith, that he keeps his heart fixed amid all the 
changes of this life ; through duties and trials, privileges 
and privations, joys and sorrows. By trusting, he hides 
himself within the secret pavilion of the Almighty for 
defense and repose, unto the day when he shall enter on the 
immortal inheritance purchased for him in heaven and 
receive his birthright as a child of God, — a life estate of 
holy joy in his eternal kingdom. 

II. But we will consider now more particularly the 
effect of his trust, to fix and establish his heart, to exalt 
it to an ascendancy over evil. 

The righteous, with his neighbor, is embarked on an 
eventful life, with all his interests in the future at stake. 
Exposed to many sources of moral and natural evil, which 
seem ready to devour, neither can fix the heart in im- 
movable repose by resorting to apathy and indifference. 
The sensibilities of the heart cannot be extinguished ; 
nor be stifled so far as to need nothing for joy, as to bear 
every thing without anguish. There is to ever} r heart 
some loss which, if incurred, would be insupportable ; 
some evil which, if inflicted, would be beyond endurance. 
No heart therefore is steadfastly fixed in repose, that does 
not rest for its happiness on something that is beyond 
temptation, guilt, disappointment and sorrow. 

Now the righteous, by trusting in God, fixes his heart 
to such an object, and establishes its happiness on an 
immovable foundation exalted above all evil ; because in 



72 The Power of Trust. 



his trust he anticipates a /ull and perfect inheritance of 
joy in heaven : he assures his heart of securing it be}^ond 
failure : and he arms his heart with patience to endure 
every temporal loss or suffering which may come upon 
him before he is put into its full possession. 

I. He anticipates an inheritance in heaven that is fully 
and forever satisfying. 

He has set his heart on God, his reconciled and gracious 
Father in Heaven. His treasure is in God himself, the 
ever holy, the ever blessed ; the full and overflowing foun- 
tain of good. It is laid up in the inexhaustible stores of 
his wisdom and goodness and power: from which he 
supplies the holy in his heavenly presence with fullness of 
joy : by which he places them in an estate of perfect 
glory and blessedness ; exalted, like his own, high above 
the reach of every evil ; firm and enduring, as his, to 
eternity. This inheritance in heaven will be enough to 
feed his capacious mind and heart with fullness of joy for- 
ever more ; and in the anticipation he now rests with 
calm and settled delight. 

He doubts not that his Father in heaven has abundant 
riches to settle forever on all the children of his adoption, 
the heirs of promise. He trusts in his word, with un- 
shaken confidence that there is such an inheritance in 
heaven worthy of all his toils, and there his heart fixes 
its desires and affections. Nor is he afraid that the evil 
tidings will ever reach him that he has fixed his heart on 
vanity and delusion. There are indeed in the world 
those who publish tidings of evil — who announce that 
there is no immortality for man — that there is no Creator 
enthroned in the wealth of eternity to own him as a child 
and endow him as an heir of immortality — and who, in 
their atheistic blindness, call upon him to seek his happi- 
ness solely in the objects of this fleeting world. But, 
what authority have they for the evil tidings they pub- 
lish ? Have they traversed the vast provinces of this 
creation and the regions of immensity beyond, and made 
the discovery by actual searching, that there is no 
God nor any world of his immortal children? The ser- 



The Pozver of Trust. 73 



vant of God, while he sees in the atheistic around him, 
those who are confined to the same world with himself, 
and who have no more knowledge by actual vision than 
he, will still go on with unshaken heart, to trust in the ex- 
istence of the invisible God and his invisible kingdom, 
and await the issue of his trust after death. In the mean 
time he has seen within him and around him too many of 
the works of God to doubt his existence ; he has experi- 
enced too much of his care already to doubt his grace. 
He has proved by experience that there are depths in 
his own nature which none else can ever fill. At distance 
from him he has encountered the stormy ocean of selfish- 
ness, temptation, guilt and passion ; and has passed by the 
wrecks of those who have sunk in utter disappointment 
and wretchedness and despair. He has himself tasted 
deeply of all those ingredients of agitation and anguish 
that cleave to a worldly portion taken in alienation from 
God. And now, since he trusted in God and submitted 
his destiny to his disposal, he has tasted some of the first 
fruits of his grace : the foretastes and earnests of the 
promised inheritance. He has felt the tempests of temp- 
tation and sin subside within him at the command of 
Christ. He has felt the love of God taking possession of 
his heart more and more as he has trusted, and strength- 
ening him in the ways of holiness. He feels that the God 
in whom he trusts, in communion with whom even now 
his heart at times takes in a measure of joy that is un- 
speakable and full of glory, is all sufficient to his endless 
joy. With the witness of the Spirit in his heart that he 
is a son of God, with the earnest of the future inherit- 
ance now in possession, he trusts on, undisturbed amid 
the evil reports that are circulated in the world around 
him respecting his heavenly Father. He trusts on, rejoic- 
ing in the delusion, if it be one, that so ministers to his 
present holiness and joy and to his hopes of futurity. 
He trusts on till death, willing to abide the issue in 
eternity. 

2. Again, by trusting in God, he assures his heart of 
securing that heavenly inheritance beyond failure. The 

11 



74 The Power of Trust. 



promise in which he trusts assures him, not only that 
there is an immortal inheritance in heaven for the obedi- 
ent sons of God, but that the guardianship offered to the 
guilty and needy on earth through Christ will, to those 
who in good faith rely on it, secure the possession. The 
securities upon which he proceeds in his trust, are firmly 
settled to the satisfaction of his own mind. He acts on 
the word of God which he is satisfied is genuine. He 
has risen above the fear that the record is counterfeit. 
He sees upon it the known signature of God — the marks 
of his omniscience, omnipotence, holiness and love. He 
is not afraid to rest in it as genuine, to come with it 
before God and plead it in his presence, and to make it 
the basis of all his welfare for eternity. His heart is at 
rest on that point. With a genuine promise from God 
in his hands, he is satisfied too that the Promiser is good 
beyond all deceit or failure. He wishes no better security 
than that of his name. The promise is backed with the 
weight of his character, and it can be by no higher secu- 
rity. And to this promise his Father has bound himself 
with an oath ; and because he could swear by no greater, 
he sware by himself; that by these immutable pledges in 
which he could not lie, strong consolation might be given 
to the heirs of promise who have lied to him for refuge. 
With these securities settled to his satisfaction, — that the 
promise is genuine and the Promiser good beyond failure, 
— his trust places his heavenly inheritance secure in the 
keeping of God. He knows in whom he believes, and is 
persuaded that he is able to keep that which he commits 
unto him against that day. Nor while committing his 
cause to God, resting on his word in good faith, does he 
fear that anything will be able to cut him off from his 
final inheritance. 

He escapes in this way the dangers that lurk within 
his own being. Does he hear the tidings published, that 
the heart of man is deceitful above all things ? And does 
he see the melancholy wrecks of those around him who 
are led by their own lusts into confirmed iniquity and 
guilt, and are become the suffering, helpless, despairing 



The Power of Trust. 75 



captives of evil ? He knows indeed that he carries within 
his own breast such tendencies to evil as render him unfit 
to manage his interests alone — enough of pride or covet- 
ousness or sensuality to make utter shipwreck of his wel- 
fare were he to trust in his own heart. But he has fled 
from this danger which once threatened his utter over- 
throw. His own weakness and exposures as a sinner he 
feels, and for this very reason, unwilling to trust the cause 
of his welfare to his own hands, he has betaken himself to 
the immediate care and supervision of an Almighty God 
and Saviour. In him he trusts for deliverance from all 
the evil that is still lurking in his heart. He goes as a 
trusting child into his immediate presence and pleads in 
prayer his gracious promise for deliverance from the 
power of his sinful inclinations. Nor does he fear, while 
resting on his word and feeling the sanctifying power of 
his love already in his heart, but that his Father will pre- 
sent him holy and unblamable in his sight at the last day, 
an inheriter of eternal joy. He thus escapes from his 
own weakness and sin by hiding himself in the arms and 
upon the bosom of his Almighty Guardian, and taking to 
his heart the sanctifying power of his truth and love. 

Nor does he fear that fellow-beings will cut him off from 
the promised inheritance. For the Lord in whom he 
trusts is high and infinite, over all the foes that can rise 
up against him in the creation. If evil spirits in this 
universe are allowed to come near him, or it his fellow- 
men ever gather around him to assail his welfare, he puts 
'his immortal interests beyond their reach by committing 
them as a child to the care of the Almighty. He goes 
up to him who controls all. He calls upon him as his 
Guardian, for defense from the assaults of temptation. 
He pleads before him with confidence his own promise. 
He knows his word is sure. On it he is willing to rest. 
And while binding his heart to the Almighty in unshaken 
trust, while cleaving in steadfast faith to the love of God 
in Christ Jesus, no assaults of enemies in the creation can 
break the bond. None can divide between him and God. 
His heart and treasure is above all, bound fast to the 
throne of the Infinite and the Almighty. 



j6 The Power of Trust. 



Nor does he fear that God himself will cut him off from 
his heavenly inheritance. He expects to behold him on 
the day of judgment, and to hear his lips pronounce on 
multitudes who appear before him, the sentence of final 
and endless exclusion from his kingdom. But in view of 
that coming day he is not afraid of such tidings of evil to 
himself. He now betakes himself to God and commits 
his cause to his management in season. He knows that 
he has merited as a perverse and guilty creature a disin- 
heritance from his love and kingdom. But he has been 
brought nigh to God in reconciliation, and has accepted his 
gracious proposal to justify him and admit him to his 
birth-right in heaven. He pleads that promise now as 
his defense. He is willing to abide the issue, on that fear- 
ful day. He trusts in his word that it is he who justifieth 
the ungodly, who believe that his Son has died and risen 
again to make intercession. Clinging to a Guardian 
whose sole prerogative it is to pronounce final sentence on 
mankind, and who engages to justify his righteous ser- 
vants, he fears no condemnation. He sees his immortal 
interests safe in the keeping of his Father in Heaven. 
He trusts on till death ; assured of receiving beyond fail- 
ure the immortal inheritance, for which he pants, of a 
child in his kingdom of glory. 

3. Once more ; by trusting in God he arms his heart 
with patience to endure every temporal loss or suffering 
which may come upon him before receiving the inherit- 
ance. For having his heart fixed on a pure and unfading 
inheritance in the immortal kingdom of God and a title 
secured to that inheritance which is beyond failure, there 
remains no evil for him to encounter but such as affects 
his temporal interests : his happiness in this life merely, 
while on his way to eternity. The worst tidings that he 
can expect to hear are such as respect temporal disap- 
pointment and loss, or temporal sufferings. He knows 
not indeed, precisely how much temporal loss or suffering 
may come upon him in consequence of his own impru- 
dence or the encroachments of fellow-beings, or the more 
direct dispensations of Providence. Yet by casting all 



The Power of Trust. J J 

his care upon God, he is preparing his heart to endure 
the utmost that may come upon him. He surrenders all 
his mortal interests into the hands of God ; assured that 
his providence is over the wide creation ; that every 
temporal good, by whatever secondary almoner adminis- 
tered, is his gift ; that every temporal evil by whatever 
hands inflicted, is his rod of chastisement : and he trusts 
in the word of God his Guardian, that he will order the 
bounty and discipline of his hand according to his wants, 
and act toward him, in all his earthly course, as a wise 
and kind Father ; consulting his highest welfare — intent 
to render him a partaker of his holiness and blessedness. 
Having from the heart committed all to the orderings of 
his wise providence, he is prepared to receive every 
earthly gift with that spirit of thankfulness, and to endure 
every earthly trial with that spirit of patience, which the 
wisdom and love of God inspire in every truly trusting 
heart. 

Why then, in a world which his Father superintends, 
and in which his Father is training him up for the holy 
joys of his eternal kingdom, should his heart be overcome 
with the fear of evil tidings ? 

He is in a world indeed that is full of evils. Many 
hearts around him are sinking with forebodings of what is 
to come or fainting under the evils which are already 
upon them. They cannot bear their earthly losses and 
disappointments and cares, and, if they do not suffer them- 
selves to pine away the lingering death of inconsolable 
grief, vainly attempt to stifle their own sensibilities in 
intemperance or rush upon utter annihilation. But all 
these are embarked on the stormy ocean of mere self- 
adventure, wilful w r anderers from God, with none but a 
worldly portion to feed their panting hearts. He has 
escaped ; and is fast moored to the Rock of Eternal 
Strength, the Citadel of Eternal Joy. 

And now, w r hat evil tidings does he fear shall come to 
affect him at this anchorage ground ? Shall he hear of 
the death of beloved friends ? or shall disappointments 
and losses as to worldly good assail him ? or shall pains 



78 The Power of Trust. 



and sufferings announce their presence in his decaying 
body ? But in all these, even at the worst and when 
inflicted by malicious foes, he sees the hand of God in 
whom he trusts. Though accumulated upon him at once 
as they were upon the righteous Job -though messenger 
after messenger arrive with evil tidings — he still clings to 
the God of his hopes. He casts himself with all his bur- 
dens afresh in prayer on the love and sympathy of God, 
and arms his heart with patience to endure. It is the 
Lord ; let him do what seemeth him good. The Lord 
who gave hath taken away ; blessed be the name of the 
Lord. If some spirit of impatience and evil suggest to 
his heart that he curse God and die, he repels the blas- 
phemous suggestion that would tear his soul away from 
the anchorage of its hopes. He still clings in trust to a 
bright reversion in the love of God. His tribulation even 
'now worketh the patience of filial love, the experience of 
divine compassion and faithfulness ; and hope grows 
stronger in a heart into which are flowing these fresh and 
increasing measures of God's love. And whether his 
afflictions pass over him wholly in this life or not, thev 
are but the faint clouds and gentle ripples of the dark 
and furious tempest that is raging out on the broad ocean 
he has escaped ; which lie awhile over the harbor of 
security he has reached ; and which skirt a land before 
him of eternal brightness and joy. 

What tidings of earthly evil then shall he fear ? Is it 
the tidings of temporal death ? But that is his last 
enemy. All the malice of his foes in the whole creation, 
can reach no farther. And the God in whom he trusts, 
disarms even this enemy of his sting. By whatever 
means the evil shall be inflicted, he sees in it the mes- 
senger of the Lord. He fears no evil from the Lord his 
Shepherd, who summons him into his presence. ' Though 
he slay me, yet will I trust in him,' is the language he 
returns to the message. And now as he leaves all things 
earthly forever, with the heavenly inheritance full before 
him, the foretastes of its joys in his heart, the covenant of 
promise in his hands, he goes down, at the bidding of the 



The Power of Trust. 79 



messenger, to cross the narrow passage which yet sepa- 
rates him from the citadel of his King, the land of his 
inheritance. At that hour he clings to the promise of the 
eternal covenant that has fed his heavenly hopes and 
affections during the vicissitudes of former days. That 
promise of his Creator and Saviour is now the joy and 
rejoicing of his heart. That promise binds his heart to 
God and attunes his lips to the praises of victory. And 
venturing his all upon it as he goes forth to the shores of 
eternity, he escapes the terror of his last enemy. He 
passes away in the full expectation to meet face to face 
the Creator of his spirit, to hear him own the promise as 
genuine and good, to receive from him, the Redeemer of 
the lost, the inheritance of an adopted child in his holy 
and immortal kingdom, and to be exalted forever beyond 
all approach of evil. 

I have thus set before you the effect of trust in God to 
establish the heart of the righteous in the repose of an 
invincible strength ; to establish it firm against the over- 
coming fear of future evil : — that it does this by setting 
the heart on God and thus administering to it joyful 
anticipations of a satisfying inheritance in his love and 
kingdom : assuring it of entering into the possession 
beyond failure : and arming it with patience to endure 
every evil that will be permitted to assail him while on 
the way to that full inheritance. " The righteous shall 
not be afraid of evil tidings : his heart is fixed, trusting in 
the Lord. His heart is established, he shall not be afraid." 

And now, to conclude, I would, as a practical improve- 
ment of the subject, propound two questions for serious 
consideration and decision. Is not the lot of the right- 
eous in this kingdom of our Creator more excellent than 
that of his unbelieving neighbor ? And is it not wise to 
imitate him in the trust by which he secures that lot ? 

1. Is not the lot of the righteous in this kingdom of our 
Creator more excellent than that of his unbelieving 
neighbor? Whose condition bids fairest for happiness in 
the unseen and untried eternity to which both are hasten- 
ing ? Who is most likely to fare well in the endless ages 



8o The Power of Trust. 



to come ? I speak as unto wise men, — able to discern 
between good and evil ; judge ye what I say. 

You see the unbeliever living without God, trusting to 
the devices of his own heart for his happiness, seeking his 
portion in the pleasures he can find in mere worldly 
things. He is out on the uncertainties of this life, ven- 
turing his whole welfare on this trust. Yet even now 
temptations are thickening upon him, the evil passions of 
pride and sensuality and selfishness and malice are occu- 
pying his heart with intenser sway ; and disappointments, 
losses, sufferings and fears are crowding upon him a more 
inconsolable burden. He goes forward to eternity the 
captive of guilt and sorrow ; and we see him no more. 

You see the righteous, — once embarking his welfare on 
the same course, — alarmed and dissatisfied ; turning to the 
promise of this book and recognizing it as the promise of 
the Creator ; renouncing before him his former trust and 
submitting himself and his whole welfare, as this book 
directs, to the disposal of his wisdom and goodness and 
power. Now does he wash his hands in innocency, and 
compass, as a filial servant, the altar of God his joy and 
refuge. He enters into holy communion with him, filling 
his heart with richer assurances of immortal joy in his 
kingdom, and arming it with patience to endure and over- 
come every sorrow that meets him on his way. He 
passes from us in this state of triumph : and we see him 
no more. 

I say, you see the righteous on this triumphant course. 
For in the portrait I have drawn, I have but described 
the case of well known individuals who have existed in 
the world and passed before us into eternity. Not that 
every righteous man is equally exemplary and constant in 
his filial trust, or attains equal degrees of hope or equal 
degrees of exaltation over natural and moral evil. Nor 
that there are not those who profess their filial trust in 
God when in works they deny him, who utterly fall in 
the day of temptation and trial. But the existence of the 
true believer, and the effects of his filial trust in this life, 
are facts too clear to admit denial. 



The Power of Trust. 8 1 



You see then both on their course in this life, and ven- 
turing their well being on their different trusts. They T 
have now entered on an untried eternity, and what, judge 
ye, is the issue ? Say not, you have not seen eternity — 
that it is hid in the darkness of futurity — and you cannot 
judge. Look to what you do see : this word that is with 
us ; and the believer in it, here on his way, and the 
unbeliever. Judge from what you do see, as to what you 
do not see. Which, think you, is likeliest to fall the 
eternal prey of natural and moral evil ? Which is like- 
liest to rise to an eternal exaltation over both, in this 
kingdom of our Creator? Whose prospects are the 
fairest for inheriting a blessed immortality ? Are both 
alike to fail ? Are both alike to succeed ? To bring the 
question to a test: whose condition would you prefer? 
Were your Creator at this moment to render himself 
visible, and, setting aside in your case the general rules 
of his government, were he to assure you, that a mere 
word from your lips should decide it — that, as you said it 
should be, whether to take your place in eternity with 
Paul the apostle, or with Nero his persecutor, with the 
believing Baxter or with the infidel Voltaire ; what would 
you say? Ah, is there a heart which ever came near the 
light of this word or the example of its trusting believers 
that, when brought to the test, would not say, * Let me die 
the death of the righteous ; let my last end be like his ; 
let my lot in eternity be cast with his.' 

2. I ask again, Is it not wise to imitate the righteous in 
the trust by which he secures his lot ? I address the 
question more particularly to those who have not yet 
returned to the Lord in repentance and put their trust in 
his promises of grace. Is it not wise for you to imitate 
the righteous in his faith and trust ? 

The word of promise, with its conditions, is before you ; 
the word on which he ventures his eternal well being, 
and by trusting in which he rises so far ascendant over 
the moral and natural evil which is pressing upon the 
world, as to appear before you the joyful child of God 
and to convince you that it shall fare well with him in 
eternity. Is is not wise then to do as he does — to re- 

12 



82 The Power of Trust. 



nounce dependence on that which leaves you under the 
power of evil, and venturing all on this word of promise 
to choose, as it proposes, the Lord for your Shepherd ? 

You are to act of choice in your trust, and not by force. 
Your eternal well being is at stake, and you are to trust 
it somewhere. You must venture it all upon something. 
Do you think it wise to rest it where you now do, in 
your own hands, in alienation from God, in subjection to 
the power of evil, and trust on and wait the issue ? Is it 
not better to rest it on the promise of this word and to 
come, as this word proposes, a lost creature to God, sur- 
rendering yourself to his care through all the vicissitudes 
of this life and seeking of him through Christ Jesus for- 
giveness, holiness and endless redemption ? 

Do you object that this is not a matter of folly or 
wisdom, reproach or praise, but of necessity ; that belief 
rs involuntary, depending upon evidence? But you can 
trust where there are very slight grounds for belief, and 
you can refuse to trust where the grounds for belief are 
the strongest. It becomes you therefore to search impar- 
tially for the truth, and that right early. But that you 
are not even now kept from trusting in this word of 
promise by mere want of evidence, is proved by your 
present conduct. You are now actually trusting all the 
interests which this promise calls you to venture upon 
God, somewhere else ; you are now willing to stake all 
in your own hands and upon your own management. 
Have you then as much evidence for believing your 
interests secure where you now stake them as you would 
have were they staked on God and his word of promise ? 
Say ye who think of future repentance ; say ye who, 
determined to brave it out as ye are, still admit in your 
hearts the superior prospects of the righteous? Would 
you not, if brought to the issue at once in the visible pres- 
ence of the Creater, prefer rather that your trust were 
staked upon revelation than upon its present basis ? And 
if now you are trusting your immortal interests where 
you believe there is the less security of the two, could you 
not trust them, if you chose, where you believe there is 
the greater f 



The Power of Trust. 83 



The gospel bids you forsake your false refuges of lies 
and sins, return with submission and love to God your 
Creator and Redeemer, and secure your immortal inter- 
ests at his hands. The record has his signature. They 
who trust in it are living proofs of his faithfulness so far 
as the eye can trace them on their course. If then you 
would be wise for eternity do as they do. If you see 
ground enough to render it wiser in your view to trust 
your immortal interests upon God and his promise, than 
where you now trust them, do it : nor wait another 
moment. If you wish for increasing light, that will dawn 
upon you the more, as you walk with God and study his 
word on your future way. If you wish for actual vision, 
that will not come till each one takes the issue of his 
present courses in eternity. You must trust, you must 
venture all, beforehand. Be wise then now, to enter with 
the righteous on his life of filial trust, and thus secure his 
happy inheritance beyond the grave. 



THE TRIAL OF ABRAHAM. 



GENESIS XXII: i— 19. 



This portion of sacred history informs us of a trial to 
which Abraham was subjected, at a time of great peace 
and prosperity, by the express appointment of God. The 
time and origin of the trial are made known in the intro- 
ductory remark : v. 1, — " It came to pass after these things 
that God did tempt Abraham." 

After the things already related — when the former trials 
of his life were past ; when his anxieties about Hagar 
and Ishmael were relieved by the express promise of God 
in regard to their future lot ; when the difficulties with 
Abimelech were settled by a covenant of perpetual amity ; 
when he and Sarah, amid temporal prosperity, were 
rejoicing in the constant presence and society of Isaac, 
now arrived at the years of opening manhood ; and when at 
the altar of devotion which he had erected in the grove of 
his planting at Beersheba, not far from his shaded dwell- 
ing, he, with his rejoicing household, was wont to call on 
the name of Jehovah, the everlasting God ; — in this time 
of profound peace, he is suddenly called to undergo this 
severest of all his trials. 

The trial came upon him by the express appointment of 
God. At the midnight hour probably, — for he " arose " 
" early in the morning," it is said, to fulfil the appoint- 
ment — the Lord suddenly appeared and, by a severe 
command, " did tempt" as our translation renders the 
Hebrew verb, or as the word is more properly rendered, 
did try or prove " Abraham." The old English transla- 
tion was more exact uoon this clause, and should have 



86 The Trial of Abraham. 



been preserved : " The Lord did prove Abraham." The 
same word is so rendered in our version in the passage, 
Exodus xvi : 4, in which the Lord speaks of granting Israel 
food, in the quails and the manna, to attract them to his 
service by his bounty — " that I may prove them whether 
they will walk in my law or not." For God by bounties or 
afflictions, bv gifts or their withdrawal, to put men to the 
trial and proof 'whet her they will obey or not, is but employ- 
ing on his part a necessary means to advance his honor 
and their welfare : though, unavoidably, it may afford an 
occasion for men to be tempted by their own lusts, or of 
the devil, to do evil rather than obey. But God tempteth 
no one neither is tempted, to evil. 

But let, us look at the trial which, at this time of pro- 
found peace, the Lord suddenly appointed his servant. 

Following the guidance of the history, which presents 
"the distinct parts of the subject in their true order, we 
will notice, 

I. The command of God imposing the trying sacrifice; 

II. The obedience of Abraham in performing the com- 
mand ; and 

III. The gain that resulted to both at the close, — both 
God the Ruler and Abraham his servant. 

I. The command of God which imposed the trial upon 
Abraham, is introduced and stated in these words : v. 1, — 
" God said unto him, Abraham : and he said, Behold here 
I am. (v. 2.) And he said, Take now thy son, thine only 
son — whom thou lovest — Isaac " : — I give, in this reading 
not the order of our translation, which introduces the 
name before the description is finished, but the order of 
the Hebrew which with fine effect, keeps back the name, 
Isaac, to the close : — " Take Isaac, and get thee into the 
land of Moriah ; and offer him there for a burnt offering 
upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of." 

Before giving the trying command, God summons the 
presence and attention of Abraham, that he may give ear 
to some order which he is to receive and that he may be 
ready to execute it : ''Abraham," ' my servant, whom I 
have called ; with whom I have made my covenant ; 



The Trial of Abraham. 87 



whom I have charged to walk before me and be perfect : 
hear my voice.' Abraham, like a ready and attentive ser- 
vant, at once replies : " Behold, here I am." ' Speak, 
Lord ; for thy servant heareth.' 

The order is now pronounced in words and tones which 
fall with deepening terror on the heart of this father, and 
this inheritor of the promises ; and which put to the 
utmost task his faith in the goodness and in the covenant 
of his God. 

" Take now thy son." The patriarch, I imagine, at 
the first mention of his son, startled as with some strange 
apprehension, might have kept back his heart from the 
worst awhile by wavering between his two sons, after 
this sort : ' I have two sons, Ishmael and Isaac : ' take " thy 
only son " ; ' but both are only sons of their mothers ' : ' take 
the one ' " whom thou lovest " ; ' but I love them both : ' 
' take ' " Isaac " ! ! ah ! it is he, whom I feared ; my darling 
one, the child of Sarah ; the son of most precious hopes and 
promises. Yet, doubtless, God will not suffer any evil to 
befal the child. I have trusted in his wisdom and good- 
ness ; I cling to the express promises of his covenant ; 
and what he says I will do, nothing doubting. Well, I 
will take Isaac : but zvhere shall I take him ? ' 

The word from God proceeds : " And get thee into the 
land of Moriah." ' Well ; it is a long journey from Beer- 
sheba to Moriah ; sixty miles, perhaps, through wilder- 
ness and over mountain tracts ; there may lie on our path 
no tent of any hospitable shepherd with whom we may 
find entertainment ; there may be perils from wild beasts 
of the wilderness or from robbers : but God commands ; I 
will trust in his providence, and take Isaac to the land of 
Moriah : but what shall I do with him there ? ' 

The order from heaven proceeds : " Offer him there for 
a burnt offering upon one of the mountains which I will 
tell thee of." ' Can it be? Do I hear the order aright? 
There is no mistake. The command is on the ear, dis- 
tinct as the tones of heaven.' "Offer him there for a 
burnt offering." What a multitude of thoughts rush 
upon the heart of the father to crush it, how many sug- 



88 The Trial of Abraham. 



gestions against such a deed are ready to spring up, to 
prevent obedience : which nothing but unwavering faith 
in the wisdom and goodness of God can surmount, and 
render that heart free to obe)^ ' Can I endure to make 
such an offering? It would be hard to part with this 
beloved son by death, even in the usual course of provi- 
dence by disease ; it would be harder still to have him 
taken away from me by the hand of violence, were the 
blow struck by a stranger : but to have this arm inflict 
the death-wound, — the arm of the father — the arm that 
has so often clung around him with affection — the arm on 
which he has always rested for safety : how can my heart 
be nerved to the deed? But God commands : and, shall 
I not hush every distressing emotion with the thought 
that his infinite wisdom and goodness are back of me, 
giving direction, by explicit command, to my will and my 
arm. I have been wont to yield implicit obedience, 
trusting in his wisdom and goodness, and in his word of 
promise : and shall I not do it now ? Yet never before 
have I received from him any command which seemed so 
contrary to his character for wisdom and goodness and so 
contradictory to his own promises, as this. What pos- 
sible honor to God or pleasure can be derived from a 
human sacrifice? How will the nations be shocked at so 
unnatural a deed on the part of a father, and reproach the 
God whom I serve for his cruel exaction ? What too will 
become of his promise to me : " In Isaac shall thy seed be 
called?" Shall posterity arise from the ashes of the 
dead ? I am now left with a bare command from God ; a 
severe command : no explanation accompanies it, no 
assignment of reasons, no promise : it is sole and simple 
authority. He seems purposely to have withdrawn from 
me every support out of himself and left me to lean on 
himself alone : as if to see what is the respect I have for 
his will. I know that he commands the sacrifice. I can- 
not question his right to dispose of the temporal life of 
men. Nor is it my place to wait till I see how he will 
defend his honor and my character, or how he will fulfil 
his own promise to me, before I obey his known will. 



The Trial of Abraham. 89 



His command is upon me : and I know that I am safe, 
and safe only in obeying his voice. His command is 
upon me : and 1 know that he can and will defend his 
honor and protect my character and fulfil his own promise 
when I obey. Whether I can see the particular way in 
which he will do it or not, I know that he will do it in 
some way. I resolve, therefore, to leave all in his hands, 
and follow his will. I will take Isaac, whom I have 
received from God as one raised up from the very dead, 
and, in the land of Moriah and on the mount which shall 
be shown to me, I will offer him to God as a burnt-offer- 
ing- ; trusting that the same power which has done so 
much to fulfil the promise already, will, in this last 
extremity, raise up his life from the dead, if needs be.' 

But to resolve on obedience is easier far than to per- 
form : and the spirit of obedience is proved to exist, and is 
ripened into full strength, only as it is carried out into 
execution in the particular deeds of the life. Let us, 
then, 

II. Consider the obedience of Abraham, as made mani- 
fest in being carried out to the full in the performance of 
the commanded offering. 

His respect to the will of God was clearly made mani- 
fest to rise supreme above every opposing consideration ; 
because he not onty resolved in his heart to obey that will 
when it required the greatest temporal sacrifice he could 
make, but he began at once to put the resolve into execu- 
tion, and carried it forward through every obstacle to 
the accomplishment. 

He began at once to put his resolve of obedience into 
execution : as the history, immediately after reciting the 
command of God, proceeds to say (v. 3) : " And Abraham 
rose up early in the morning and saddled his ass ; and 
took two of his young men with him, and Isaac his son : 
and clave the wood for the burnt offering." At the 
earliest dawn of day, this prompt and faithful patriarch 
provides the necessary means for accomplishing the offer- 
ing. He orders his faithful beast of burthen to be made 
ready for carrying provisions and relieving him in his old 

13 



90 The Trial of Abraham. 



age of the tedious foot-walk, in which the rest of the 
party in the vigor of their youth are to engage. Two of 
his young men-servants are selected to accompany him 
on the expedition with their services, and these, with 
Isaac, form the party. By his orders wood is taken, 
probably from a seasoned pile near his tent, and cleft for 
burning : that everything may be ready on his arrival at 
the mount of sacrifice. While this work of preparation 
is going forward, no suspicion or alarm, it would seem, is 
awakened in Sarah or in any of the numerous household. 
The only interest which she or they appear to take in this 
little group, with their patriarch head, in their prepara- 
tions for departure, is that of an absence for a few days 
on some ordinary expedition. Doubtless Abraham re- 
vealed not the dreadful secret even to Sarah, but kept it 
locked up in his own breast, that she and all he loved 
might, with him, abide the issue. With what a cool and 
deliberate purpose of obedience, then, must he have gone 
through this work of preparation before his household, 
not to betray, by any outward signals of look, tone or 
action, the unwonted emotions at work in his heart ; not 
to excite any suspicion in others of the dreadful task he 
was preparing to accomplish ! 

All things being in readiness, he now proceeds to carry 
out his purpose of obedience through every obstacle to 
its accomplishment. The history thus mentions the 
departure (v. 3) : He " rose up and went" — i.e., started to 
go, for it is the journey begun, and not the journey accom- 
plished, which is here spoken of — " unto the place of which 
God had told him." The moment of departure is one of 
deep interest ever to both fragments of the parting house- 
hold. The oneness that unites all hearts seeks expression, 
at the time of separation, in farewells and blessings ; in 
pledges of remembrance ; in hopes of re-union. But now 
one heart — that of the patriarch head of the household — 
bears on it a load it must not express, it must not betray. 
But there is faith in God to bear up, at this hour, that 
heart with all its load. He is on his course of obedience 
to God. So, as the party take leave of their friends at 



TJi e Trial of A b rail am. 91 



Beersheba — Isaac of his mother and the domestics — the 
young men of their fellow-servants and their mistress — 
the patriarch, with manly composure, pronounces his 
benediction on the household ; then mounts his animal to 
lead the way ; and the part)', turning their faces north- 
ward, depart for the land of Moriah. (v. 4.) " Then on 
the third day Abraham lifted up his eyes and saw the 
place afar off." For two days the party had been advanc- 
ing. Isaac and the wood are constantly in sight of the 
patriarch ; the dreadful work appointed him is ever in 
prospect ; yet with deliberate purpose he moves steadily 
forward. There might have been bright and beautiful 
scenes of nature through which they passed during these 
days, which Isaac and the young men in their freedom 
from care admired, and called upon the patriarch to 
admire with them : and though his heart was charged 
with graver cares, yet doubtless he refused not to admire 
with them the glorious works of God. They may talk of 
other days and of the friends they have left behind them : 
yet does he not refuse to turn from the painful prospect 
before him to hold communion in their feelings and joys. 
His heart is fixed, trusting in God ; and so he has leisure 
to mingle in the interests of others ; and does not betray 
to them the dreadful object of his solemn and deliberate 
purpose. But now, on the third day, a mountain range 
is seen, loading with its green wooded domes and its grey 
masses of rock the northern horizon. On one of these 
mountain tops appears the signal of heaven — the cloud of 
light and glory — noting it as the place chosen of the Lord 
for the offering. It is that mount Moriah on which in 
after times the temple of Solomon was built ;f that moun- 
tain elevation on which Christ, the Only Begotten Son of 
the Father, the promised seed of Abraham, was offered 
up for the sin of the world that he might extend the 
blessings of salvation to all the families of the earth. 
But now, overlooking the hills and valleys far around, it 
raises its lofty and rocky summit into the sky, in all the 

f 2 Chron. iii : I. 



92 Th c Tria I of A b ra ham. 



silence and rugged grandeur of nature. No voice of man 
is heard, no mark of his industry seen, on this vast altar 
pile in the temple of creation. 

But the place is approached: and now the patriarch 
must set himself, more seriously and exclusively, to 
accomplish the sad duty before him. (v. 5, 6.) " And 
Abraham said unto the young men, Abide ye here with 
the ass: and I and the lad will go yonder and worship, 
and come again to you. And Abraham took the wood of 
the burnt offering, and laid it upon Isaac his son : and he 
took the fire in his hands and a knife : and they went both 
of them together." Another step is now taken towards 
the execution of his purpose. The young men-servants 
would be in his way at the serious hour of sacrifice : they 
might disturb his composure or effectually resist the 
offering. They are left, therefore, to wait till his return. 
But what mean these words of Abraham at parting : " We 
will come again to you." Had the dead ever returned to 
life ? or did he now yield up his purpose, and resolve, 
after all, that in the last extremity he would spare the 
lad ? No. But he believes in the promise of God ; " In 
Isaac shall thy seed be called " ; and the hope of a resur- 
rection to life has sprung up in his heart. So he goes 
forth to ascend the heights of Moriah, Isaac, the uncon- 
scious victim, bearing the fuel, to be consumed together 
with it ; he carrying in his own hand the knife and the 
fire, the weapons of destruction. Oh ! as on that lonely 
walk they pass through the forests at the foot of Moriah 
and clamber up its sides together, will not the father 
relent and give way ? No ; the command of God is upon 
him : that command nerves his heart to obey and to- cast 
all its anxieties and cares upon God. Up as they ascend 
from one elevation to another, his purpose remains settled 
on faith in the wisdom and goodness of God, firm as each 
pinnacle of rock on its everlasting basis. But the silence 
of their walk is, for a moment, interrupted by this short 
dialogue, (v. 7, 8.) " And Isaac spake unto Abraham his 
father, and said : My father: and he said, Here am I, my 
son. And he said, Behold the fire and the wood : but 



The Trial of Abraham. 93 



where is the lamb for a burnt offering ? And Abraham 
said, My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt 
offering." The loving and confiding eye of Isaac, striking 
upon the eve of the father, and sending such a piercing 
question to his inmost soul, must have overpowered a 
mind that was not immovably fixed in its purpose. But 
Abraham remained unmoved : and, not to disclose as yet 
the real victim, referred the whole matter to God to pro- 
vide a lamb for a victim — the innocent lamb before him, 
that had been nurtured in his own bosom, (v. 8, 9.) " So 
they went both of them together. And they came to the 
place which God had told him of." The place where he 
had seen the signal of God resting — the cloud of light 
and glory. Here on the table land of the mountain top ; 
on some open area where the altar may rest, and upon 
which the sun is pouring down his meridian rays ; sur- 
rounded by the darkness and thickets of the forest ; in 
this temple, built of God ; stand the father and son, to 
make ready for the sacrifice, (v. 9.) " And Abraham 
built an altar there, and laid the wood in order." Sad 
task, indeed ! Each stone Avhich they bring to the struc- 
ture, each piece of fragrant turf which they lay upon it, 
appears to the patriarch already to teem with the blood 
of Isaac, and puts a load on his heart heavier far than it 
does upon the earth. Yet he is fixed immovably in pur- 
pose : the structure is completed : the wood laid upon it 
in order, suited to the burning. The hour of sacrifice has 
now come. The victim must be taken, bound, slain. The 
purpose of Abraham can no longer remain concealed 
from his son. How now will he advance to his task ? in 
silence and with force ? will he suddenly lay hands upon 
his son, and, in his haste and violence, appear unto him 
as the frantic maniac? What then will Isaac do? In the 
solitude of the forest, far from his loved mother and her 
household, beyond the hearing of the young men, no 
stranger nigh, despairing of any pity in the breast of a 
father, so alienated and maddened with delirious phrensy, 
will he seize a billet from the altar, and with equal fury 
rush to disarm the father, or take life for life ? No : the 



94 The Trial of Abraham. 



mind that is fulfilling the will of God, is ever calm and 
rational ; and seeks, in accomplishing its purpose, the 
methods of wisdom. No doubt, avoiding every show of 
force, in a cool and rational manner, Abraham disclosed 
the dread secret so long laboring in his breast, by entering 
into free and serious conversation with his son. There in 
the deep solitude beside the altar, in the presence of God, 
he tells him, doubtless, of the command which he has 
received ; to fulfil which, he has taken the journey with 
him and brought him up the mount. He may reason 
with him, from the signal of divine glory which both had 
seen that morning, hovering over the place, that truly 
God had ordered and was superintending the strange and 
trying sacrifice. He may reason with him on the obliga- 
tion that now rests upon both alike to comply with this 
most trying will of God ; on the faith which it becomes 
both to put, notwithstanding this season of darkness, in 
the goodness and in the promises of God, and the expec- 
tation which both may cherish that, after the hour of 
sacrifice, there will be a resurrection to life again, and a 
happier meeting than now. For it could not be, that Abra- 
ham would have refrained from inculcating upon his child 
the duty of submission, at the hour of death ; nor would 
he leave the matter, if it could possibly be settled thus 
peaceably by voluntary submission, to come to a violent 
contest of physical force. Isaac, too, whether he had ever 
yielded his heart to God before or not, doubtless at this 
solemn ,hour bowed in submission to the trying will of 
God ; and consented, like his great Archetype, the Son of 
God, to surrender himself a voluntary victim for the 
sacrifice. For he resisted not : and though called a lad, 
he might, with that title as then used, have been of full 
age ; and, in his vigorous youth, have proved a match for 
the physical strength of the aged patriarch. Gently 
then, we may believe, the hand of the father winds the 
cords around his yielding son : and so " he bound Isaac 
and laid him on the altar upon the wood." The agoniz- 
ing moment has come. The trembling victim lies, 
expecting the pangs of death. The heart-aching offerer of 



The Trial of Abraham. 95 



the sacrifice stands ready to slay. (v. 10.) "And Abraham 
stretched forth his hand and took the knife to slay his son." 
He grasps the deadly weapon ; he raises his arm ; the fatal 

blow is arrested by a voice from heaven, (v. 11, 12.) 

" The angel of the Lord called unto him, Abraham, 
Abraham : and he said, Here am I. And he said, Lay 
not thine hand upon the lad, neither do thou anything 
unto him." The sacrifice is thus prevented at the last 
moment, by the same authority which had commanded it. 
For it was enough. The trial of Abraham was complete ; 
and his obedience finished. But one muscular effort of 
his arm remained ; and that was kept back in mercy. For 
it was not blood that Jehovah sought, but obedience. The 
command is obeyed, to the very last act, in the spirit and 
intention of Abraham. All who ever hear of it will 
acknowledge that he would have struck the blow, and 
have completed his task, had it not been for this sudden 
stay put on the whole proceeding by an order from the 
Lord. The trial is closed ; and God has secured the 
result at which he aimed ; a result to Himself and his 
servant full worthy of the whole trial. But let us, more 
particularly, consider, 

III. The gain that resulted from the trial to both par- 
ties — God the Ruler, and Abraham his servant. 

The history shows us, that, without any evil resulting 
to Isaac, Abraham obtained, through his persevering 
obedience in the trial, the approving testimony of God ; 
the joy of a thank-offering for delivering mercy ; and an 
assurance stronger than ever of an interest in the 
promises. 

No evil has befallen Isaac. The order from heaven, 
" Lay not thine hand upon the lad," has saved him harm- 
less. The sharp trial, too, of the moment when he 
learned the will of the Lord and submitted himself as a 
victim, has passed away forever ; while the consciousness 
of his own submission, and thankfulness to God for 
deliverance, remain as permanent sources of satisfaction 
in his future life. 



g6 The Trial of Abraham. 



Abraham, by means of the trial, secured to himself the 
approving testimony of God. The Angel of the Lord, call- 
ing out of heaven to stay the procedure of Abraham, pro- 
nounces the testimony : (v. 12.) " For now 1 know that thou 
fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine 
only son from me." God has witnessed the patriarch on 
all his way of obedience. He has seen him in his faith 
and obedience persevering through every obstacle to the 
last, putting honor on his character, increasing his own 
holiness ; and now the hour of his testimony is come. He 
is pleased : and gives out a testimony of approbation that 
will abide a source of joy to the patriarch long after the 
pangs of his three days of trial are gone. " Now I know " 
is the heavenly testimony, " that thou fearest God." ' I 
know that thy respect is supreme above every opposing 
consideration : ' " seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, 
thine only son from me." ' The evidence is out, in thy 
favor and to m}^ honor. I can now speak to all with cer- 
tainty about Abraham. I can point to him as having 
gone through this trial with honor to me : and say to any 
one in my kingdom ; That is the man that truly respects 
me. I can now publish the evidence given in this trial as 
an example to my kingdom. That man I can always trust 
to obe}^ my orders. The fruits of righteousness abound 
in him to my glory. 1 am honored greatly, and my ser- 
vant Abraham advanced in his faith and obedience.' And 
so at the close of the trial God and he rejoice together in 
the approving testimony obtained by faithful obedience. 

To this approving testimony there was added the joy 
of a thank-offering, provided by the delivering grace of 
God. (v. 13.) " And Abraham lifted up his eyes, and 
looked, and behold behind him a ram caught in a thicket 
by his horns : and Abraham went and took the ram, and 
offered him up for a burnt offering in the stead of his son." 
As Abraham stood with Isaac by the altar, and beheld 
the substitute which the delivering mercy of God had 
provided, what a tide of thankfulness rises in his heart ! 
The love of God that seemed hid awhile behind a passing 
cloud has broke forth in full luster upon his soul : and in 



The Trial of Abraham. 97 



the smoke of the sacrifice substituted for Isaac, he wafts 
up to heaven the lively breathings of joy, the glowing- 
emotions of thankfulness ; for God and he rejoice 
together more sweetly than ever in the sun-light of 
deliverance, (v. 14.) " And Abraham called the name of 
the place Jehovah-Jireh : as it is said to this day, in the 
mount of the Lord it shall be seen," — or, as the Hebrew 
is better rendered, " In the mount the Lord will be seen 
or appear." His grateful testimony for God he left for- 
ever there in the name he put upon the place : and to the 
day of Moses, and to this day even, it is a proverb among 
the faithful, that in the mount of difficulty and trial to his 
people, God will appear ; — that their extremity of want 
is God's opportunity to come with delivering grace. 

In addition to the approving testimony of God and 
great joy in his delivering grace, Abraham obtained also a 
fuller assurance than ever of his interest in the promises. 
His hope is caused to abound the more in the certainty 
and joy of their fulfilment. There might, as a conse- 
quence of the teachings of a resurrection during the trial, 
have sprung up in his mind more enlarged views than 
ever of the extent of the promises, and, in consequence of 
this deliverance, greater confidence in the purpose of God 
to accomplish them all. But he was not left to reap hope 
from experience alone. The Lord, for his great pleasure 
and joy in his servant, comes nigh to give him direct 
assurance, (v. 15.) "And the Angel of the Lord called 
unto Abraham out of heaven the second time, (v. 16) And 
said, By myself have I sworn, saith the Lord, for because 
thou hast done this thing and hast not withheld thy son, 
thine only son: (v. 17) That in blessing I will bless thee, 
and in multiplying I will multiply thy seed as the stars of 
heaven, and as the sand which is upon the sea shore ; and 
thy seed shall possess the gate of his enemies, (v. 18.) 
And in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be 
blessed : because thou hast obeyed my voice." These 
promises which were first announced to him at the time 
of his extraordinary call : which were repeated to him and 
sealed as a covenant by the rite of circumcision, at the 



98 The Trial of Abraham. 



annunciation of the birth of Isaac : are now re-pronounced, 
as made sure by his having stood the trial faithfully, and 
are now prefaced, as never before, by that highest and 
most solemn of all assurances which can be given — an 
oath : the Lord, as he could swear by no greater, swear- 
ing by himself: " By myself have I sworn, saith the Lord." 
So Abraham, as it is represented in the epistle to the 
Hebrews, " after he had patiently endured, obtained the 
promise " : and both God and he rejoiced together over 
greater security obtained on earth to the plans of good 
included in the promises. 

(v. 19.) " So Abraham," bearing these new and perma- 
nent spiritual treasures within his joyous heart, " re- 
turned ' with Isaac "unto his young men, and they rose 
up and went together to Beersheba." 

Such is the close of this extraordinary trial of char- 
acter. The life that God, the Supreme Disposer, might 
have taken, and over which the dark cloud of trial hung, 
is spared. Abraham, for the faith and obedience which 
he has strengthened in his own heart, and by which he 
has publicly honored the authority of God, takes with 
him, to his dwelling at Beersheba, and to his altar of devo- 
tion in the grove, for his after life, the approving testi- 
mony of God ; a heart made grateful by delivering grace ; 
and a hope made strong by two immutable things — in 
which it is impossible for God to lie — his utterance of the 
promises and his oath for their fulfilment. 

This trial of Abraham, the history of which has 
engaged our attention, is fraught with instruction to the 
people of God in all ages. 

1 observe, 

1. That this trial, besides its design of proving the 
character of Abraham, serves to illustrate, by an analogy 
near to our hearts, the great love of God in making the 
offering of his Only Begotten Son. No one, who observes 
how God began and carried forward in those early ages 
his school of spiritual instruction, by setting up in out- 
ward forms typical analogies and illustrations of the 
spiritual, as in the very institution of sacrifice ; or who 
notices the striking peculiarities attendant on the burnt- 



The Trial of Abraham. 99 



offering assigned to Abraham, will fail to see shadowed 
forth in it the great offering made of that seed of Abra- 
ham, greater than Isaac, who has come to bless all the 
families of the earth, the Q\\\y Begotten Son of the Father. 
A father called to yield up his only son in sacrifice — the 
stroke of death to be inflicted by his own hands — the 
mount of Moriah selected as the place — the voluntary 
submission of the victim at the time of sacrifice — all serve 
to set forth the trial of that hour when the sword of 
Jehovah was lifted up against Him that was his Fellow, 
bowing meekly to receive the stroke on this very mount : 
while the change of the human offering for the ram that 
the Lord provided, serves to set forth the love that made 
that great offering on Calvary, a substitute for the 
penalty of death incurred by man for his sin. Whether 
God made such a thing known at the time to Abraham or 
not, whether Abraham saw in it any typical teaching of 
the future, or not, he has lived to see it in his heavenly 
abode : and to all Christians on earth, it has set forth an 
illustration, clear and affecting to the heart, because most 
near and intimate to themselves in their own parental and 
filial relations. 

And, Oh ! what a day to Abraham in heaven was that 
when Jesus, his son as to the flesh, God's Son as to his 
Eternal Spirit, walked upon those same rugged heights 
bearing the heavy load of his cross ! It is not now the 
solitary mount, without inhabitant, and covered with the 
thickets of the forest. The splendid temple of Jehovah, 
and the palaces of the kings, with their lofty towers and 
gilded domes, occupy those heights : and the soldiers of 
Caesar and the rabble of Jerusalem accompany, with 
clamorous tread, the walk of Jesus. Yet onward he goes, 
deserted of friends, surrounded by the din of the thought- 
less or the reviling : and submits to be nailed to the cross 
and to die, an offering to God substituted in behalf of the 
believing for the eternal fire-offering, which the law 
exacted of guilty man. If tears could flow in heaven, 
must not that venerable patriarch, touched with fellow 
sympathies gained in his school of trial, have wept that 



100 The Trial of AbraJiam. 



day at the thought of what was passing in the hearts of 
the Eternal Father and his Son. There could now be no 
exchange in the victim, as was made in his case ; yet a 
resurrection to life was in prospect to this Son of Promise : 
and the patriarch could rejoice that, on that rising to life 
again, He should have a seed that should prolong their 
happy days to eternity. Such thoughts have often come 
into the minds of Christians on earth, as they have read 
the history of the patriarch's trial, and aided their fellow- 
ship with Christ in his sufferings ; and caused their hearts 
to abound with thanksgivings to God, for his great love 
wherewith he hath loved them in providing this Lamb 
from his own bosom as a sacrifice to take away their sins. 

But looking to the more immediate design of the trial 
of Abraham as a trial of character, I observe, 

2." That God appoints trials to his people, out of faithful 
regard to their highest welfare. 

The welfare of his people depends on the cultivation in 
their own hearts of a spirit of faith and obedience towards 
God ; for by this spirit only can they honor him before 
his kingdom, or receive to themselves the benefits of his 
wisdom, power and goodness. But in order to improve 
and strengthen such a spirit in man, it is not well that he 
be left to uninterrupted prosperity in all things. His 
heart is so inclined to be its own master, to follow its own 
devices, to rest on temporal possessions and joys for all, 
that if no trial from the hand of God come to cross and 
thwart its perverse tendencies, it withdraws itself almost 
insensibly from supreme trust in God and implicit obedi- 
ence to his will. Had he been left in his prosperity with- 
out this trial, Abraham might have found his heart, even 
at the very altar of his devotion in the grove, withdraw- 
ing gradually from God and settling down on the gifts 
already accumulated around him as his portion. Faithful 
regard to his welfare moved God to appoint a severe 
trial, which would hedge up his way against the idola- 
trous love of anything, however dear, which he might 
call his own ; and bring him to such straits, as that he 
should cast himself with all his possessions and wants 



The Trial of Abraham. 101 



afresh on the care of God in faith, and submit all to the 
will of God in implicit obedience. The appointment 
therefore was not arbitrary and gratuitous ; but dictated 
by faithful regard to Abraham, that he might be made to 
partake more fully as a servant in the joys of the divine 
holiness. 

The people of God therefore should ever account the 
trials, which come upon them on their path of duty, as his 
wise appointments. Though they may not see the wis- 
dom and goodness of just such trials and afflictions as 
befal them, yet that is precisely the discipline which a 
faithful God sees them to need : to be put to the proof b}^ 
trials, the wisdom and goodness of which they do not 
particularly see at the time : trials, the wisdom and good- 
ness of which lie concealed, as yet, in the breast of God : 
trials, which call off their hearts from self-reliance, and 
dependence on creatures, that they may rest alone on 
God, the fountain of spiritual happiness. Should not the 
people of God then, whenever a trial meets them on 
their path, confess in it the hand of faithfulness, and with- 
out murmuring at the allotment, gird up their whole 
strength to the work of endurance ? Shall not they who 
see the necessity of the discipline of their earthly parents, 
much more confess the wisdom and goodness of the dis- 
cipline appointed by the Father of spirits? Should they 
not regard his allotments, even when most painful, as 
evidences of a Father's heart and a Father's care? — as 
proof that he is training them as sons and daughters for 
honor and glory in his eternal kingdom ? 

I observe, 

3. From the trial of Abraham, the people of God may 
derive encouragement in the hour of trial to endure 
patiently the will of God. 

For each trial, however severe or protracted, being 
appointed by faithful love, in order to benefit and not 
destroy, will come to a close : and when God appears to 
bring it to an end, then to meet him with a spirit that has 
held on to faith and obedience to the last, will bring a 
harvest of delight to the soul, in possessing the appro- 



1 02 The Trial of A braliam . 



bation of God, and sharing- with him in the gains of obe- 
dience and the joys of deliverance, which will overbalance, 
far, all the pains of endurance. 

Though his trial was not such as is common to man, 
Abraham had to endure it but three days : and the faith, 
with which he rested on God in those days of darkness, 
satisfied his heart more at the time than the pleasures of 
sin could have done : and when patience had completed 
its work on the mount of sacrifice, what blessed results 
arose to his soul at the coming of God ! There was the 
consciousness of having done the will of God, at the 
greatest earthly sacrifice : there was a feast of joy par- 
taken with God in his testimony to faithfulness and in the 
sweet experience of delivering grace : there was the sun- 
light of hope casting its happ) T radiance over the future : 
that made the very mount of sacrifice an emblem of the 
heights of heavenly blessedness. Nor are the spiritual 
results, which are gained by patient endurance, momen- 
tary. They are treasured up in the ever living spirit ; 
deposited among its memories, stored with its affections, 
commingled with its joys forever. 

Be encouraged then, child of God, whatever trial he 
appoints thee, to endure it, with firm and patient submis- 
sion to his will. If it seems severe ; if it seems protrac- 
ted ; if thy heart is almost ready to faint within thee; 
hold on in faith and steady submission. The path he 
appoints thee may seem dreary. There may be moun- 
tains of difficulty to ascend. But trust in the Lord who 
leads thee. Trust him for his wisdom. Trust him for his 
kindness and mercy. Not beyond what thou art able to 
bear, not without any way of escape, will he make thy 
burthen. Hold on with patient endurance. The hour 
of deliverance is to come. On the mount the Lord will 
appear. And at his appearing, hope, love, joy, shall be 
shed abroad abundantly in thy heart as the results of thy 
patient endurance. 

" Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, 
The clouds you so much dread 
Are filled with mercy, and shall break 
With blessings on your head." 



The Trial of Abraham. 103 



" Be patient therefore, brethren," under all the earthly 
trials which may be appointed you, " unto the" final 
"coming of the Lord." On the ways of this life, the will 
of God made manifest in his precepts or his providence, 
will appoint you trials, more or less severe. You may 
pray that he would not lead you into them ; and while 
they are upon you, that he would deliver jou. You may 
use all lawful and suitable means to avoid their occur- 
rence ; to shorten their continuance ; to lighten their 
burthen. Still, if you are his beloved children whom he 
is training for heaven, you cannot avoid them utterly. 
He will appoint them for discipline, and you must bear 
them with patience. Think, whenever they come upon 
you, of the faithful love that appoints them, and of the 
encouragements to endure. " Behold," in the examples 
of those who have lived before us, " we count them 
happy which endure." Their faith, though tried as gold 
in the fire, is a treasure far more precious than gold, and, 
through the refining, u will be found unto praise and 
honor and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ." 

And now, children of the apostasy, who have not yet 
obeyed the call of God, and put yourselves under the 
care and discipline of his grace, hearken to me. If severe 
trials are thus appointed to those who accept the call of 
God and walk in his ways ; if judgments must invade the 
very sanctuary of his grace for the correction of his peo- 
ple ; if the sons and daughters of the Almighty, whom he 
has adopted forever into his household, cannot be saved 
without scourging: what will the end be of those who 
obey not his call of mercy ; who refuse to take shelter in 
his sanctuary ; who persist, as aliens and enemies, in 
despising and trampling on all the orderings of his au- 
thority ? 

Oh ! there is, one day, a burnt-offering to be made 
greater than was commanded on Moriah ! The wicked 
who refuse to return to God, who continue to despise the 
orderings of his righteous will and to oppose his obedient 
servants, shall all be assembled in his presence. Before 
the great multitude of his saints, who have made their 



104 The Trial of Abraham. 



peace and covenant with him through the great sin-offer- 
ing presented on Calvary — before this multitude of his 
saints, will he show himself true : and, as for ages he has 
forewarned the world, will he institute the great burnt- 
offering that is to honor his long insulted justice. He 
will whet his glittering sword. His hand will take hold 
on judgment. No voice of mercy will on that day arrest 
the stroke. His sword will devour the flesh, and be drunk 
with the blood of the assembled hosts. A fire will be 
kindled in his anger, which shall burn to the lowest hell. 
And upon these flames, which are never to be quenched, 
shall they be thrown, and the smoke of their torment 
shall ascend as a perpetual burnt-offering before his king- 
dom, to exalt his justice forever. 

Will you pursue the pleasures of sin for a short season, 
to be devoured in these flames? Will you not choose 
rather to obey the will of God and suffer affliction with 
his people for a little, that you may partake of their eter- 
nal triumphs at his coming ? 

Behold he has set up his standard of salvation in the 
midst of you. He is now calling to himself a people. 
That call is resounding in your ears. Why linger ye? 
Gather yourselves together now to the Lord of Hosts, 
the Saviour of Israel. Fashion yourselves no longer 
after your former lusts. Be holy, as he is who calleth 
you. Put yourselves under his direction and care ; and go 
forward with his people, on the path of obedience and 
trial, to their triumphant joy in his heavenly kingdom. 



UNION TO GOD AND HIS PEOPLE. 



RUTH I, 15: 16. 

Behold thy sister-in-law is gone back unto her people and unto her 
gods : return thou after thy sister-in-law. and ruth said, intreat 
me not to leave thee, or return from following after thee : for 
whither thou goest, i will go ; and where thou lodgest i will 
LODGE : thy people shall be my people, and thy God shall be my God. 

This resolve of Ruth's was fixed : fixed in an iron 
will ; a will not to be bent or broken from its purpose ; 
yet conducting a gentle and affectionate heart to its 
chosen fortunes with the people and into the service of 
Jehovah. 

This resolution of hers was intended to put away from 
her all further entreaty or plea to the contrary ; and was 
uttered as final: " intreat me not my God." 

To estimate her resolution aright, we need to see what 
thoughts were crowding Lipon her heart at the time she 
uttered it, the thoughts that came rushing to her from 
the history of her past life. Ten years before this period, 
Naomi, with whom she was now journeying, had come to 
Moab, having migrated thither with her husband and two 
sons from the land of Juclah, bringing with them the 
knowledge of the true God. Elimelech, the husband of 
Naomi, soon died : yet by the marriage of her sons with 
Orpah and Ruth, two of the daughters of Moab, the 
widow rejoiced in the affectionate hearts that were joined 
to her family circle. Yet this happy scene was soon 
broken up by the hand of death. Mahlon and Chilian 
were gathered to their father, Elimelech, in the grave : 
and over the last resting place of the father and sons 
the widowed mother and her two widowed daughters-in- 
law mingle the tears of bereavement and bitterness. 

15 



io6 union to God and His People 



In this state of bereavement, Naomi resolved to return 
to the home of her youth ; when Orpah and Ruth, with 
truly filial affection, resolved to accompany her and share 
with her the fortunes of life. When the)' commenced 
their journey, Naomi, out of regard to the temporal wel- 
fare of her daughters, besought them to go back and 
remain with their kindred and friends: and kissed them 
in token of bestowing; her blessing and love on them at 
parting. But they lifted up their voices and wept; say- 
ing, surely we will return with thee unto thy people. 
Naomi again strenuously besought them not to accom- 
pany her in their destitute and unprotected widowhood, 
but to return to their acquaintances in Moab. The 
thought of separation grieved them, and thev lifted up 
their voices and wept again. But Orpah, though grieved, 
now acceded to the proposal of her mother ; and, sealing 
her friendship at parting with a kiss, went back unto her 
idolatrous countrymen. Ruth still clave unto her mother, 
refusing to return ; and thev proceeded on their journey. 
But Naomi, as even pious parents are prone to be, was so 
solicitous to ensure what appeared to be the temporal 
interest of Ruth as to hazard her spiritual welfare, and 
again urged her to return to her idolatrous countrymen, 
beseeching her to unite herself to the society of her 
now absent sister. But this last and strong appeal to the 
affectionate heart of Ruth was not sufficient to move her 
from her resolution. " Intreat me not," says she, " to 
leave thee or to return from following after thee, for 
whither thou goest, I will go ; and where thou lodgest I 
will lodge; thy people shall be my people, and thy God shall 
be my God." 

There was much of filial affection, doubtless, in this 
strong unyielding resolution of Ruth : but may we not 
believe there was also the deep desire of spiritual improve- 
ment? She resolved to give up her portion in the land of 
idols and find it in the land of God. I will give up the 
vain gods of my youth and the societv of my idolatrous 
countrymen, even that of my sister; and go and unite 
myself to God and his people, asking a reception into the 



Union to God and His People. 107 



privilege of worshipping and serving him in the congre- 
gation of his people, even though it be as a proselyte of 
the gate in the outer court of the Gentiles. 

This noble resolution of Ruth to unite herself in resis- 
tance to all entreaties and pleas to the contrary to the 
people and to the God of Israel, and cast in her lot im- 
movably with theirs, is worthy of the imitation of all to 
whom, by the knowledge of the Lord Jesus Christ and 
the presence of his Church, opportunity is given to form 
the union. For in covenanting to take the Lord as our 
God, and his people as our spiritual associates, as the) 7 are 
offered to our acceptance, we enter into a union which 
ensures our spiritual and perpetual well-being, while 
withdrawal from such union necessarily subjects our whole 
being to the endurance of evil. Our subject will be the 
grounds which justify such a firm resolve, as they are set 
forth in the blessings of spiritual fellowship with God and 
his people," and the evils necessarily consequent on with- 
drawal from that fellowship. 

1. Holy fellowship with God and his people is a source 
of the purest friendship : that of God and his saints. In 
the weakness that attaches to us as finite beings and the 
dangers that surround us from temptation and sin, what 
a value is there in pure friendship ! In this selfish world 
the possession of a single friend who is pure in his love, 
who is devoted to our spiritual welfare, and who will 
adhere to us in all the changes of our condition, is a 
greater blessing than all earthly treasures in comparison. 
What an unspeakable blessing then is it, to enjoy the 
friendship of God and his saints ! Yet if we unite our- 
selves to the people of God, the} 7 are our friends. They 
pledge themselves to be our -friends in all circumstances 
of our condition. We are sure, as one with them in the 
bonds of Christ, of receiving their sympath} 7 in our trials, 
the aid of their counsels and prayers in our wants and 
dangers, and their countenance and cooperation in our 
labors of benevolence. If we unite ourselves to God, 
this glorious Being is our Friend and Father. He pledges 
to us in sacred covenant his holy and unchangeable friend- 



io8 L'n ion to God and His People. 



ship. His eye of omniscience is ever on us for good, his 
ear is open to our cries, his hand of power is around us 
for our protection, his wisdom instructs and guides us, 
his mercy blots out our iniquities in free forgiveness, his 
grace sanctifies and saves our souls. His heart of fatherly 
love is intent on our welfare, his Son is our advocate and 
head, his Holy Spirit is our gracious indwelling Com- 
forter, the witness and seal of his love. 

Is not the very possession of such a sympathizing friend- 
ship, flowing to us from the heart of God, and the hearts of 
his people, a rich treasure of joy ? The very feeling that 
God, and that, as far as they know us, his spiritual house- 
hold, are not only at peace with us, but tenderly sympa- 
thize with us in our hopes and fears, our joys and sorrows, 
—throws a sweet solace over the trials of the present state, 
sheds full joy into the cup of present blessings, and is 
one of the elements of the cloudless and overflowing 
pleasures of heaven. 

2. Holy fellowship with God and his people leads to the 
most exalted employments of benevolence. What a rich field 
of benevolent employ ment is set before us in fellowship 
with God and his people. We are in a world that God 
has made, filled with immortal beings, over whom he has 
exercised a kind providence and righteous government, 
who yet have wandered from his worship and service 
into the ruinous blindness and perverseness of sin. In 
such a world God is redeeming a people to himself by 
his Son and Spirit, diffusing abroad the light of spiritual 
knowledge, the healing influence of sanctifying power. 
In maintaining fellowship with God and his people, there- 
fore, it is our exalted and worthy employment to promote 
this work of God that redounds to his glory and human 
salvation. His wisdom has contrived and set before us 
the means on which our own faculties may be wisely em- 
ployed, his grace has set before us the field into which 
we ma}^ enter and where we may reap a glorious harvest 
of good to his praise. And how is the joy of this benevo- 
lent employment heightened by conscious unity with 
God and his people. If by any means I am an instrument 



Union to God and His People. 109 

of converting a sinner from the error of his ways or of 
strengthening a Christian brother in the way of the Lord, 
I have done it not alone, bnt as one with God and his 
people: and I know, not only that joy is imparted to the 
individual but that the event will cause benevolent joy to 
the holy brethren who hear of it, that it gives joy to the 
heart of the Eternal Father, and that God, from whom all 
grace proceeds, will be honored in consequence with an 
increasing tribute of praise. In this field of benevolent 
employment I appropriate to myself too the jo} T of what 
God and his people do in the same work. The object is 
one: and when I meditate on God and see the wisdom 
and power and goodness and righteousness he exercised 
in the original creation, and the goodness and super- 
abounding grace he manifests in the new creation by 
Jesus Christ, what joy his infinite heart takes in his works 
and what joys flow from them to the hearts of his holy 
and redeemed creatures, I am supremely blessed in his 
blessedness, I adore him for his wisdom and goodness, I 
praise him for the help and the blessings imparted from 
his throne to his dependent creatures. So, too, in this 
blessed field of benevolence, which is one alike in all pla- 
ces and in all ages, when I contemplate what an) 7 of his 
servants have done in past ages, or hear of what they are 
now doing in distant places, or see what the} T are doing 
around me, to promote in the earth the glorious cause of 
God, I rejoice in their joy and success and in the healing 
light of their example; and, for it all, I thank the God of 
grace. 

This deep, ever flowing and ever increasing source of 
joy, is opened to us in that cause of benevolence for which 
God has associated with himself a peculiar people, zeal- 
ous of good works. In the results that flow from this 
benevolent union, our hearts ma} T at times overflow with 
joy, even here in this w r orld, while in the field of labor 
and trial, while far from our Father's house, while imme- 
diately surrounded but by few of his people, and opposed 
by the armies of the aliens. What then shall be the joy 
of the benevolent laborers, when they shall have all come 



1 1 Union to God and His People. 



in from their fields of toil to their Father's house in 
heaven, bringing their sheaves with them from the four 
winds, shouting the harvest home ! 

3. Holy fellowship with God and his people leads to 
our own spiritual improvement. It is in union to the 
Church of Christ only that we can expect to receive 
spiritual edification, to persevere and grow in grace, and 
increase in the knowledge of Christ. For Christ has 
introduced into this body, ordinances and means of grace 
designed for their use and edification. He has appointed 
his holy sabbath as a day for their assembling, a day 
hallowed to sacred rest and holy contemplation ; he has 
given them his word abounding in the instructions of his 
own wisdom and love ; he has given them the privilege of 
uniting their hearts together at the throne of all grace in 
prayer and praise ; he has instituted for them the public 
ministry of his word by teachers and pastors ; he has 
appointed their mutual watchfulness or united censure for 
wholesome discipline ; he has appointed the ordinance of 
his supper as a memorial of his death and sufferings, at 
which they may, in humble, thankful meditation, feast 
together upon his love. These means, his wisdom and 
love have introduced into his church for the perfecting of 
the saints, for the edifying of his body, till the} r all come 
in the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son 
of God, unto the measure of the stature of the fullness of 
Christ. 

Nor shall we fail to persevere and grow in the spiritual 
graces of faith and charity, if, in spiritual union to God 
and his people, we faithfully apply those means which his 
grace appoints and his Spirit blesses to edification in holi- 
ness. We shall go forward to fresh victories over sin and 
temptation. We shall gather fresh strength to run in the 
ways of God. Our love shall abound yet more and more, 
and increase in wisdom and prudence and understanding. 

And how rich a source of joy is it to be transformed 
into the glorious image of the Lord from glory to glory : 
to grow up to him in all things who is the Head of all 
wisdom and goodness and in whom all fullness dwells : 



Union to God and His People. I 1 1 



who is the pattern of all excellence and the admiration 
and joy of all heaven ! 

These spiritual attainments and ornaments will be all 
our own : the very habits of our souls : inwrapped with 
the very faculties of our natures ; which, unlike external 
possessions, no enemy can ever wrest from us ; and which 
shall be like wells of water within us springing up unto 
everlasting life and joy, increasing the tide of our blessed- 
ness here and forevermore. 

4. Holy fellowship with God and his people conducts 
us to an eternal feast of joy in the kingdom of God in heaven. 
There shall we be presented faultless in the presence of 
God and his saints at the coming of our Lord Jesus 
Christ : purified from sin and all its evil inclinations ; 
adorned with perfect rectitude and love. There in the 
new Jerusalem above, shall we be gathered to the innu- 
merable company of angels, the general assembly of the 
Church, the Mediator of the new covenant, and God the 
Judge and Father of all, and taste the sweets of their 
combined friendship and mingle in their exalted em- 
ployments of benevolence, without a trial or enemy to 
disturb us more, to all eternity. There all the scattered 
rills of joy that pass to refresh us here below, shall meet 
and commingle into one unbounded ocean of blessedness. 
There shall the heart of Christ overflow with jo}^ in reap- 
ing the rich harvest of his former sufferings, and all 
heaven exult in his joy and echo with his praise. There 
shall the Eternal Father rejoice with all his holy ones in 
having fully answered the prayer which his Son offered to 
him in the days of his humiliation. ' Father, I pray for 
those that believe in me, that they all may be one, as thou, 
Father, art in me and I in thee : that they all may be one 
in us.' And before his awful throne shall the nations of 
the saved and glorified bow with joyful adoration and 
praise. The Church of God — the bride of the Lamb — is 
there united in the closest bonds of love to her Lord and 
Saviour, and heaven becomes as it were a marriage sup- 
per of pure uninterrupted joy. 

O ! what an exalted feast will this be to all the pure 



1 12 Union to God and His People. 



minds of the sanctified in heaven ! And should it not be 
enough to bind our hearts with steadfast resolution to God 
and his people here in this world of labor and trial and 
temptation and sin? The thought and hope of it may 
well yield us many a season of sustaining and refreshing 
joy, while involved in the conflicts of faith and bearing 
the heat and burden of our day of toil. It may well sus- 
tain us with buoyant hope in that hour when, called from 
this scene of trial, we must conflict with death, that last 
enemy of the saints, and lay down these bodies amid 
pangs and groans in the darkness of the corrupting grave. 
And when beyond that dark valley we lift up our eyes 
upon the light and glory of our Father's house in heaven, 
our admission into this feast of love shall fill our immortal 
spirits with triumphant and unending joy. 

But I mentioned as grounds for cleaving with unshaken 
purpose to the communion of God and his people, not 
only the blessing to be derived from such fellowship, but 
the evil we necessarily incur if we turn away from that 
fellowship to the idolatry of the world. For if we turn 
away from God and his people, we do not merely relin- 
quish all hold on the sources of good that are offered us 
in their fellowship : though this loss is unspeakably great, 
— utterly wasting to the immortal spirit, and forever 
irreparable. We necessarily do more. We still exist. 
The burning energies of life are within us. And if we 
turn away from this portion, we shall cleave to another. 
The world will absorb us. Its pleasures shall we seek. 
Its lusts shall we fulfill. Estranged from God through the 
blindness of our hearts, and aliens from his Israel, we 
shall pursue our way of selfishness through the world 
alone. Yet not wholly alone. We shall be associated 
with that portion of God's universal kingdom, who have 
gone off from him in guilty revolt ; who, having broken 
from the bands of his wholesome authority and trampled 
on his benevolent laws, and expecting to reap nothing 
from him but indignation and wrath, hate him, and hate 
the people whom he saves ; who are truly hateful them- 
selves, and who in their selfish malice hate one another. 



Union to God and His People. 1 1 



What evils face us if we turn away from God and his 
people, and associate ourselves, under Satan the prince of 
darkness and the god of this world, with the multitude 
of his followers ! 

What is their friendship ? It is not solicitous for our 
real welfare. It would bind us only to their selfish, sin- 
ful, malicious purposes. It seeks our subservience to sin, 
and in that very way plots and designs our ruin. 

What is their employment? It is self-seeking, that is 
cursed in the doing, that is cursed in witnessing the guilty 
subservience of others, that breaks out in a war of mutual 
wrath and malice when subservience is refused, or that 
combines only in a greater and more absorbing passion of 
malice to war against God and his saints. 

What is their influence ? The heart is hardened yet 
more and more. The feelings are combining more and 
more into one blaze of malice. The marks of reproba- 
tion thicken upon the wandering outcast. He is fitted for 
wrath. 

And what is the result ? He and the whole body to 
whom he has become leagued are summoned before God 
the Judge ; and there, as those who have made shipwreck 
of their souls, are they cast off from him and his people, 
as disturbers of the peace, a useless and mighty wreck, 
into the depths of hell. And there the fires of malice will 
burn with anguish, and burn, and burn, — to eternity. 

O! is it not a weighty reason to unite ourselves to God 
and his people, that we cannot give up the blessedness of 
this fellowship, except on the dreadful alternative of 
taking up our final portion with the wicked ? Shall we 
give up our portion in heaven and its feast of love, and 
take it in hell and its fires of malice ? 

From our subject I remark, 

i. They who are already united to the Lord and his 
people, should cleave to this privilege as their highest 
honor and joy. 

For this fellowship involves in it all their happiness, 
their spiritual improvement and hopes for eternity, and 
apart from it there is no portion in the kingdom of God, 

16 



1 14 Union to God and His People 



but utter perdition. And who, in such a wide alternative, 
should hesitate on which side to take his portion? 

Are there trials attendant on your duties ? But, by 
neglecting your duties, you will not fail to encounter 
trials and severer trials still : and where can you find 
solace and support under trials like that which is offered 
you in the communion of the Holy Spirit ? 

Are there aliens from God and his Israel around you, 
that would oppose you and put you to shame ? Fly then 
to the friendship of God and his holy ones, which is one 
day to crown you with glory and cover all his enemies 
with shame, nor dare, for the sake of receiving present 
honor from man, to be confounded in the coming day 
of Christ. 

Are there trials from the want of charity in the people 
of God ? Alas ! that children of the same father, in the 
world of their trials and labors, should ever fall out by 
the way or withdraw the heart from sympathy and love ! 
Yet imperfect as Christian fellowship is in this world, it is 
a purer and sweeter bond than is known to the wcrld, and 
soon it will be perfected in heaven, and you and your 
fellow Christians will have but one heart of warm and 
undying charity in the house of your Father on high. 

Are there chastenings from the hand of the Lord ? But 
these are wholesome remedies which his friendship ad- 
ministers for our spiritual improvement, to work in us the 
peaceable fruits of righteousness. We are now chastened, 
that we may not be condemned with the world. Why 
then shall we not be subject to the Father of Spirits and 
live ? 

Cleave then, brethren, partakers of the heavenly call- 
ing, to communion with God and his saints. Walk 
worthy of him as his dear children, and of your high 
vocation : inviting, by your faith and prayers and Chris- 
tian love, the presence of the communing Spirit. For ye 
are called in one hope of your calling : and there is one 
Spirit, one Lord, one God and Father of all. 

2. The friends of God should ardently seek that con- 
verts may be gathered from the world and added to the 
Lord and his church. 



Union to God and His People. 1 1 5 



For the world is going forward in alienation from God 
and his Israel, hardening in guilt and ripening for endless 
ruin. And the joyful fellowship in Christ to which 
believers cleave as their hope and joy, presents to these 
children of sin and error the opportunity of a complete 
and joyful redemption. 

How then should the Spirit of their Lord — who was 
willing to leave his throne and joy, and to sacrifice him- 
self on the cross for the redemption of the guilty and 
lost — how should the Spirit of their Lord shine forth in 
their example before the world, and be breathed forth in 
their intercourse, to win souls to salvation ! 

Let them go to the wandering sinner in a spirit of love 
that longs for him in the fellowship of the Spirit and in 
the mercies of Christ, and spread before him the invita- 
tion of Christ that he come to the free and rich feast of 
the Gospel, and urge on him their own invitation ; saying, 
Come thou with us and we will do thee good ; for the 
Lord hath spoken good concerning Israel. 

Above all, let them seek in earnest humble prayer for 
the presence of God and the outpouring of his Holy 
Spirit. For it is when the Spirit is present with his peo- 
ple, and they go forth in the power of his presence and 
love to seek the lost, that the Spirit meets the lost also ; 
convincing them of the righteous claims of Christ, of 
their sin, and a coming judgment; and by his subduing 
grace turns their feet into the ways of God and towards 
the gates of his Zion. Thus saith the Lord : " Fear not, 
O Jacob, my servant, and thou, Jeshurun, whom I have 
chosen. For I will pour water upon him that is thirsty 
and floods upon the dry ground. I will pour my Spirit 
upon thy seed and my blessing upon thine offspring. And 
they shall spring up as among the grass, as willows hy the 
water courses. One shall say, I am the Lord's ; and an- 
other shall call himself by the name of Jacob ; and an- 
other shall subscribe with his hand unto the Lord and 
surname himself by the name of Israel." 

Thus shall converts be gathered from the world : and 
Zion rejoice in the multitudes who flock to her gates of 
salvation. 



1 1 6 ( T nion to God and His People. 



And if there is a place in the Church where this bless- 
ing is to be desired, or to be prized, more than in any 
other, that place is here, and in similar institutions ; 
which are the hope of the Church, the nurseries of her 
future teachers, pastors, missionaries, guides, and her 
ablest supporters and defenders. 

3. The penitent and returning sinner should seek to be 
united to God and his people in the bonds of spiritual 
fellowship. 

He is a child of sin and sorrow. He is in a world that 
is short and fleeting. He stands on the verge of an eternal 
state. He has loved worldly good as his idol. He has 
wandered in pursuit of it with restless agitations, and 
found his hopes ever ending in disappointment. There 
has been a void in his soul that has ached for some higher 
and more exalted objects. There has been a sting of guilt, 
wounding him for his disobedience and disregard of his 
Maker, even in the brightest scenes of his idolatrous en- 
joyments. It is in such a condition that the Spirit of God 
meets him and opens his eyes to look on himself and on 
God, on this world and eternity, in the sober light of 
truth. He sees the folly of his ways and the ruin to 
which the}^ lead. The world sinks in his esteem. It is 
as a barren waste to his heart, and its idolized enjoyments 
are seen as the illusions of sin, that lead on to death. He 
now looks to God, and the reasonable service he requires 
of his creatures ; and his heart begins to feel the risings 
of desire and the kindlings of a new purpose to take the 
Lord as his God, submitting all to his disposal and enga- 
ging all in his service. The Spirit of God thus brings him 
by a new birth into spiritual life. He now begins the life 
of faith and charity. But shall he pursue his way alone ? 
Shall he go forward to eternity as a solitar} T servant ? No. 
God in his grace has provided better things for his chosen. 
He gathers them into one body, in fellowship with his Son 
and with one another ; that the whole body, united to 
their Head and fitly joined together, may make increase, 
unto the edifying of itself in love. Hither then is it the 
privilege of the convert to turn, and seek in communion 



I '/lion to God and His People. 1 17 



with God and fellowship with the saints the sympathy, 
employment, instruction in righteousness, and eternal rest, 
which he needs. This is a privilege which the new born 
soul has sought and prized in every age ; and for which 
many a one has risked all his earthly happiness. Like 
Ruth, the child of idolatry who resolved to go and unite 
herself to the people of God in their worship and fellow- 
ship, they have resolved to find all their happiness in this 
fellowship. 

People of the living God ! 

I have sought the world around, 
Paths of sin and sorrow trod, 

Peace and comfort nowhere found. 
Now to )^ou my spirit turns, 

Turns, a fugitive unblest ; 
Brethren ! where your altar burns, 

Oh, receive me into rest ! 

Lonely, 1 no longer roam, 

Like the cloud, the wind, the wave ; 
Where you dwell shall be my home, 

Where you die shall be my grave ; 
Mine the God whom you adore — 

Your Redeemer shall be mine ; 
Earth can fill my soul no more, 

Every idol I resign. 

To those who, this day, seek admission into public fel- 
lowship with Christ and this branch of his Church, I 
would now say in their behalf, that we gladly welcome 
you into fellowship with us in our joys and labors ; and 
hope that you will find in your union to the people of 
God a privilege that you will not cease to prize and 
cherish till it be consummated in glory. 

Come in, thou blessed of the Lord, 

Oh come in Jesus' precious name ; 
We welcome thee with one accord, 

And trust the Saviour does the same. 

Those joys which earth cannot afford, 

We'll seek in fellowship to prove ; 
Joined in one spirit to the Lord, 

Together bound by mutual love. 



1 1 8 I T nion to God and His People. 



1 will only add respecting the future, the exhortation 
that you cleave with full purpose of heart to the Lord ; 
that from this hour you go forward in the duties of reli- 
gion in the strength of Christ. Let your future College 
life be spent for God, your whole life on earth and your 
life in eternity. Be sure that while you live on earth, you 
live, and when you die, you die, in a state of true charity 
and fellowship with God and his people. And then, where- 
ever and whenever your graves shall be prepared, they 
will be hallowed by the Saviour, and your name and me- 
morial be on high. And, at the resurrection of the just 
and the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, Ave shall hope 
to meet you at that eternal feast of charity where conflict 
and toil and separation shall be known no more forever. 



RAISING FROM THE DEAD THE WIDOW'S SON 

AT NAIN 



LUKE VII: n— 17. 



The Evangelist Luke begins his narrative of the event 
by giving us the particular date of it in the ministry of 
Christ, with these words: "And it came to pass the day 
after, that he went into a city called Nain." If we look 
back to the day referred to in this date, we shall be as- 
sisted to fix on some of the circumstances of this journey. 
The day before, it seems Jesus had come down from that 
mount where he had spent the whole previous night in 
prayer to God ; on which, after sending for his disciples 
and calling them to his place of retirement, he chose the 
twelve to be the constant attendants of his ministry, that 
they might hear his instructions and be eye-witnesses of 
his miraculous works : from which he descended awhile 
to the plain to heal of their diseases multitudes gathered 
from all Juclea and Jerusalem and from the seacoast of 
Tyre and Sidon : and to which, on seeing the great mul- 
titudes that were assembled, he returned, that he might 
give his instructions from an elevated stand to the vast 
assembly ; on which occasion he delivered that discourse 
which is so fully recorded by Matthew, and which has so 
generally obtained the name of the Sermon on the Mount. 
On this day of his descent from the mount he entered the 
city of Capernaum, the place then of his residence in 
Galilee : and there an application was made to him the 
same day by a deputation of elders from some neighbor- 
ing synagogue, that he would heal the servant of a Ro- 
man centurion, who, it appears, was a devout proselyte 
greatly beloved by the Jews for his piety and for his lib- 



120 Raising from the Dead the Widow's Son at Nain. 



erality in building them a synagogue. The day of this 
healing of the centurion's servant is the date to which 
Luke immediately refers. It was the day after,— and con- 
sequently the day after the one on which he descended 
from the mount of instruction — that Jesus undertook this 
journey to Nain. We are to place the journey at the 
beginning of the second year of his ministry, soon after 
his return to Galilee from the Passover, during the spring 
or early summer. 

He was not alone on the journey. A numerous throng 
attended him on the way. " And many of his disciples 
went with him and much people." The twelve, who, 
doubtless, attended Jesus on this first tour after their ap- 
pointment, are not distinguished in this account from the 
"many disciples" who are grouped together as a class 
distinct from the " much people." The latter are rem- 
nants probably of " the great multitudes of people," who 
the dav before were assembled at the mount, from so 
many parts of the country, to bring their sick to be 
healed, or to see and hear Jesus; who, as Matthew testi- 
fies, (iv. 25.) ' had come from Galilee, from Decapolis, and 
from Jerusalem, and from Judea, and from beyond Jor- 
dan ;' who, after hearing his instructive discourse, and 
rejoicing in being healed or in witnessing the healing of 
others, were desirous still longer to accompany him, that 
they might hear more of his instructions and witness still 
more of his wonderful works. 

The city of Nain, towards which Jesus with this throng 
of attendants now journeyed, lay in that part of Galilee 
which was apportioned to Issachar, when Canaan was 
originally divided among the tribes of Israel ; and in a 
direction southwesterly from Capernaum, at a distance of 
more than fifteen miles. Between the two cities, but on 
the immediate borders of Nain, to the north, stood Mount 
Tabor ; rising in one solitary cone to an elevation of 
nearly three thousand feet, with a flat area of a mile in 
circumference at its top, celebrated as a fortress of de- 
fense in war and an altar of devotion in peace, and after- 
wards made the scene, as the current tradition of the 



Raising from the Dead the Widow's Son at Nain. 121 



Church has reported, of the transfiguration. Between 
this mountain and the city Nain, flowed the head waters 
of the brook Kishon, which, running - west across the 
plain of Esdraelon to the foot of Carmel, glided along the 
northern base of that whole mountain range to its termi- 
nation in the waters of the Mediterranean. 

As Jesus goes forward to execute his purpose of mercy, 
instructing on the way the multitude that accompany 
him, this mount of Tabor rests, in elevated grandeur, 
before them ; concealing, behind its mass of soil and ver- 
dure, the city whither they were tending. Lifting up its 
lofty peak far into the blue heaven, it might well assist 
the Master to elevate the thoughts of the whole company 
to those heights above, where he had glory with the 
Father before the world was ; whither, after he had closed 
his humiliating mission on earth, he would ascend again ; 
and to which, at the last day, he would elevate his follow- 
ers,, called forth from their graves, to dwell, above the 
sins and sorrows of earth, in his presence forever. 
Whether he made this a topic of his instructions on the 
way or not; yet, surely, he who had passed so recently 
a whole night in prayer on the mount near Capernaum, 
and was soon afterwards transfigured on such an eleva- 
tion, has set forth, to all his followers, the mountain top, 
as an emblem of retirement from the sins and turmoils of 
this evil world, and of approach in devotion to the glories 
ol the celestial King amid his worshippers in heaven. 
But as, with this emblem of heavenly things in view, the 
company listen on their walk to the discourse of Jesus, of 
the kingdom of God among men, the mountain is soon 
reached ; and, as they wind their way around its shadowy 
base, the city of Nain emerges to their view, with its 
walls and towers and dwellings, all shining joyously be- 
neath the rays of one common sun, and resting quietly on 
the surface of one common world. Yet, in those distant 
habitations so quietly reposing among the works of God, 
what different characters reside, of the pious and profane ; 
what different scenes are enacted, of joy and sorrow ! In 
one habitation the guilty, it may be, are holding their im- 

17 



122 Raising from the Dead t lie Widow's Son at Nain. 



pious revelry of riot and excess. In another, the pious 
are rejoicing in the goodness and mercy of the God of 
Abraham, and talking of their hopes in his promises. 
Prosperity is gladdening the hearts there of some happy, 
unbroken households. Adversity enters others; and 
hearts are grieved by losses, disappointments, bereave- 
ments. Yet one dwelling there, is desolate and saddened 
that day ; — the object of special interest within the city — 
and which has drawn hither the all-seeing and compas- 
sionate Saviour : for death has entered it, and the inmates 
at this very hour are going forth in sorrow to bury their 
dead. 

It is the house where once a happy husband and wife 
shared each other's joys and sorrows in that most en- 
deared of unions : whose hearts had once throbbed to- 
gether with parental joy over the birth of a first-born — a 
beloved son of their hopes. But that union had since 
been dissolved by death : and the heart-broken wife, be- 
reft of the counselor, the companion, the friend, on whom 
she was wont to lean as the stay of her life, had been left 
in her loneliness to shed the tear of sorrow over his 
grave. But the son remained ; the object of her affection 
and cares. And, faithful to the memory of the departed 
parent, she had watched over the child, till now she saw 
him, in early manhood, ready to assist her; to bear her 
burdens ; to cheer her declining years, as onward she 
traveled toward the grave. What hopes were placed in 
this beloved son ! What a solace in him had God raised 
up to soothe her widowed heart ! 

But now a bitter pang has pierced her soul. This son, 
her hope and solace, has sickened; and, notwithstanding 
all her assiduous watchings and care, has fallen beneath 
the power of disease. He has spoken to her the last fare- 
well of his heart, as he died ; and has left her alone in the 
world, parted from all her once loved and happy house- 
hold. The precious body of this only son, she was that 
day to follow to the grave. Much people of the city were 
touched with sympathy for her in her affliction. The 
companions of her departed husband, the companions of 



Raising from the Dead the Widow's Son at Nain. 123 



her son, many pitying friends, — have come to her desolate 
mansion, to accompany her on her way to the place of 
burial. This mourning group were on their way, at the 
time that Jesus with his disciples and the accompanying 
multitude, drew nigh the city. As he looks towards the 
gate, the train appears in sight bearing out the dead to 
the sepulcher, situated, according to the custom of the 
Jews, beyond the walls of the city. The whole scene is 
presented to us in the following description of the histo- 
rian, most beautiful for its classic brevity and its touching 
simplicity : " Now when he was come nigh the gate of 
the city, behold, there was a dead man carried out, the 
only son of his mother, and she was a widow : and much 
people of the city was with her." 

What different thoughts and emotions actuate the com- 
pany that move w T ith Jesus and this company of mourn- 
ers, as they meet ! The disciples and the multitude sur- 
rounding the Master, have just come from the mount, 
where, in praj^er, in instruction, and in healing a great 
multitude of their diseases, Jesus has drawn nigh the 
Father and brought down his presence and power to the 
earth. Many in this crowd, doubtless, are thankfully re- 
joicing in recovery ; and all, — disciples and others — are 
filled with thoughts of the presence and power of God in 
this Galilean teacher. The sympathizing train of mourn- 
ers, on the other hand, move slowly onwards. Thoughts 
of the happy past, thoughts of the departed dead, 
thoughts of the desolate survivor, are coursing over 
their hearts, furrowing sadness there : and from some 
pious sons and daughters of Abraham in that train, no 
doubt, prayers of the heart are ascending to Jehovah 
that in his holy habitation he would be the God and pro- 
tecting Judge of this widow. 

As the trains meet each other, the eye of Jesus, passing 
in its direction over the whole melancholy group, fastens 
on the chief mourner — the object of all this sympathy — 
who is overwhelmed with sadness. His compassionate 
heart is touched : and within it lies concealed that pur- 
pose of mercy which, in part, had brought him hither, 



124 Raising from the Dead the Widow s Son at Xai/i. 



and which would soon give back to her her lost treasure, 
and cause the tears of grief to give place to smiles of 
gladness. " And when the Lord saw her, he had compas- 
sion on her, and said unto her, Weep not." These were 
soothing words ; spoken by one who has power to reach 
and to remove ever)' source of tears. Nor did Jesus pass 
by with the utterance merely of words of sympathy. 
" And he came and touched the bier." On that support, 
not with coffin as among the Babylonians and Egyptians, 
but simpl} T wrapped in folds of white linen after the man- 
ner of the Hebrews for depositing in the sepulcher, rested 
the body of the dead, borne of four. By touching the 
bier, Jesus betokened his wish that the bearers *and pro- 
cession should halt on their way. " And they that bare 
him stood still." All now wait in breathless expectation, 
to see what this famed teacher designs. They have heard 
doubtless of the many miracles he has wrought among 
the living, and how he has called back the sick and faint- 
ing from the very gates of the grave. But never, as yet, 
— for the resurrection of J air us' daughter and of Lazarus 
took place at a later period, — has his voice reached be- 
yond that barrier that separates between the living and 
the dead ; between the lifeless body that remains and the 
animating spirit that has departed. Yet his voice of om- 
nipotence can pierce the shadowy realms of the dead, 
and call back from thence the departed spirit to inhabit 
again its forsaken body. That voice now issues the word 
of authority : " And he said, Young man, I say unto thee, 
Arise." ' I say it,' — that all may know that with me are 
the keys of death and Hades ; ' I say it,' — as having the 
power of life and resurrection in myself: ' Young man, 
Arise.' O, what a voice was that to fall on the heavy heart 
of the mourning widow ! What a new train of thoughts 
and emotions it awakens at once within her soul ! ' Can 
it be that my darling child shall hear that voice and come 
back to me again?' ' Can I again clasp his living form to 
this aching breast, and receive again from his lips words 
of respect and affection, and from his hands deeds of 
kindness, to cheer the remnant of my life ?' That voice 



Raising from the Dead t lie Wido'tvs Son at Nain. 125 



has gone forth. There are no shades of death so deep that 
it cannot reach them. The spirit of the young man has 
heard it, and has come back once more to the body. The 
dead is alive again ; and before all he puts forth infallible 
tokens of life. " And he that was dead sat up and began 
to speak" : There was a muscular motion of the body, 
in assuming this sitting posture, that seemed voluntar) T , 
not spasmodic; and that was proved to be such, by articu- 
late speech, expressing the thoughts of a living, indwell- 
ing soul. What he spake, we are not told ; but, while 
sitting up in his grave clothes, looking on Jesus, on his 
mother, on the astonished and awe-struck accompanying 
multitude, — whether he spoke of things in the sick room 
he had recently left, or of the new circumstances in which 
he now suddenly finds himself — whether he spoke of 
things in this world or in the eternal — whatever were his 
words — he was a powerful preacher of Jesus and the 
resurrection. 

But this recover} 1 - was not for the moment merely : to 
cast one gleam of joy and hope across a mourning heart, 
and leave it to still greater gloom and disappointment 
than ever. The historian adds : " And he delivered him 
to his mother." Jesus, who, it was now manifest, held the 
life of this young man in his own hand, either to dismiss 
it again, that the body might be carried to the sepulcher, 
or to retain it on earth for a further participation in the 
social intercourse of the living, as he gave him to his 
mother, assured her heart, it is probable in some form of 
words'. ' Receive thy son : return with him to thy man- 
sion : and let the compassion of this hour prove a bless- 
ing to thee for the remnant of thy days.' Nor was the 
chief mourner and her son alone, affected by this wonder- 
ful act of compassion. " And there came a fear on all." 
The train that followed the dead out of the city, and the 
train that followed Jesus on his visit to the city, are now 
commingled in astonishment at the mighty power of this 
resurrection. " And they glorified God, saying that a 
great prophet is risen up among us : and that God hath 
visited his people." Never, since the day that Elisha 



126 Raising from the Dead the Widow's Son at Nain. 

raised up the child of the Shuriamite, had airy such thing 
been seen in Israel. And justly did many in that multi- 
tude conclude that, in the person of Jesus, God himself 
was now present on some great purpose and errand of 
mercy, to fulfill the covenant he had made to the fathers 
respecting Messiah the King and the Saviour. The his- 
torian closes the account of this miracle with these words, 
" And this rumor of him " — or rather this story of his 
raising the young man of Nain from the dead, which I 
have related — " went forth throughout all Judea and 
throughout all the region round about " ; i. e., Judea and 
the surrounding region of Galilee. This wide spread 
circulation of the stor) T was to be expected. For not only 
were the eyewitnesses very numerous, but in the train 
that followed Jesus that day from the recent scene of the 
mount of instruction there were inhabitants of all these 
countries, who, with this wonderful story upon their lips, 
were soon to be dispersed to their several homes ; so that, 
wherever they went, the) 7 told their friends of the mighty 
power and compassion of Jesus. 

Among the instructions to be gathered from this scene 
in the life of Jesus, I will present the following. 

i. In this journey to Nain, Jesus presents to our imita- 
tion an example of beneficence. While at Capernaum, he 
saw with his omniscient ken the recent scene of death in 
that city, and resolved to visit the place, and give relief 
to the desolate heart of the mourning widow. Thither, 
to fulfill his compassionate purpose, he directed his steps. 
Unsolicited by any one, he went forth to accomplish the 
impulses of his own generous heart. He sought out this 
daughter of affliction in her sorrows. He went the whole 
distance that he might show her kindness. And when 
arrived in her presence, unasked by her or an} 7 of her 
friends, he imparted relief freely ; and, by this unexpected 
and surprising act of beneficence, made glad her deso- 
late heart and the hearts of all her sympathizing friends. 
So Jesus went about doing good among the people ; dis- 
pensing freely to the needy and afflicted the gifts of his 
benevolence. In this has he left us an example ; that we 



Raising fro i/i the Dead t lie Widow s Son at Nain. 127 



should imbibe his spirit of generous compassion, and walk 
in his footsteps of unwearied kindness. Not that we may 
enter into those works of might and power that exceed 
our natures and our powers to accomplish : but that, in 
our measures and according to our opportunities, we 
should seek the needy and suffering, and freely dispense 
the gifts and offices of our charity for their temporal and 
spiritual relief. 

In a world of sin and trial, where guilt and suffering 
surround us on every side, it is not by sitting quietly in 
our homes weeping over the perusal of fictitious tales of 
sorrow, nor by waiting to be sought and solicited by the 
needy and suffering, nor merely by soliciting the aid of 
our Father in heaven on their behalf, when we can dis- 
pense substantial aid ourselves, that we follow the 
example of Christ, so much as when, with compassion in 
our hearts towards the suffering, we go forth, unasked, to 
meet them in their wants, and freely dispense to them the 
relief in our power. To this, the act of Christ that we 
have considered calls us, as a guiding and inspiring exam- 
ple, showing how blessed it is to give relief to others, and 
to be a fount of temporal and spiritual blessing in this 
ignorant, guilty, suffering world. 

Go imitate the grace divine, 

The grace that blazes like a sun ; 
Hold forth your fair though feeble light — 

Through all your lives let mercy run. 

2. From the scene at Nain we learn, that in Jesus we 
have a sympathizing friend who can reach and heal every 
source of sorrow. When he met the weeping daughter 
of affliction in the depth of her sorrows, he spake those 
words of solace with' an accompanying energy that 
removed the very fountain of her grief — " Weep not." 
These are cheering words to be brought down to this vale 
of sin and sorrow, and to be left with us by one who came 
from the heavenly throne with full powers of grace from 
the Father and in his own person to relieve, and who has 
ascended to the Father again to carry forward still his 
works of mercy. 



128 Raising from the Dead t lie Widow's Son at Nain. 



And what source of grief and tears among our fallen 
race is there, that this Saviour cannot reach and heal ? 
Not that he designs to remove every imperfection, every 
burden, every trial, ever)' sorrow, from the subjects of his 
grace while they remain on the theater of this. life. For, 
as sin is the chief inlet of all our sorrows, and as to heal 
the spiritual maladies of the soul and fit it for the holy 
joys of heaven is the chief object of his grace, it is wisely 
appointed, in favor of our spiritual recovery and for 
moral improvement by discipline, that, while we remain 
here, we should be subjected to trials, more or less severe. 
Yet those soothing words from the Saviour — "Weep not," 
reveal to us in the Captain of our salvation a sympathiz- 
ing Friend, who is conducting his followers through every 
tribulation to final and complete deliverance. There is 
no "sorrow therefore which comes upon us, in which we 
may not apply to him for sympathy and support, and 
with the hope of a final deliverance. Is it sin and guilt 
and remorse ? Even from these his atoning blood can 
cleanse us, to pacify the conscience and bring the peace of 
divine forgiveness. Is it the moral disorders that still 
remain in his people, to hinder their progress and inter- 
rupt their joy in his service? To all these he is now 
applying the remedies of his grace, that he may purify 
his people, and bring them to spotless holiness in his pres- 
ence in heaven. Is it the disappointments, the losses, the 
bereavements, the sufferings of the present time, and the 
uncertainties of the future, that distress our hearts and 
open the fountain of our tears ? But in all these chang- 
ing aspects of the present and uncertainties of the future, 
he assures us that the eternal providence of his Father is 
ever over his people for their good ; consulting their 
highest welfare ; conducting them in the right way 
to a glorious habitation of rest beyond all the storms 
and changes of this mortal life. What though no man 
is found able to unfold the book of providence and 
read the destiny that hangs over the future ? Weep 
not, as though all were uncertain. The Lion of the tribe 



Raising from the Dead t lie Widow's Son at Nain. 129 



of Judah, the Root of David, hath prevailed to open the 
book. The fate of his kingdom on earth and of his people 
after the) r pass the tribulations of this life, he, who hath 
the keys of the eternal world, hath caused to be read 
forth to us by one of his servants. " They are before the 
throne of God, and serve him day and night in his 
temple. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any 
more, neither shall the sun light on them nor any heat. 
For the Lamb that is in the midst of the throne shall feed 
them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters." 
" God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes : and 
there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, 
neither shall there be any more pain : for the former 
things are passed away." 

3. In this scene at Nain, Jesus revealed himself to be the 
source of resurrection and immortal life to his people after 
death. For the word of power which he spake that 
day : " Young man, I say unto thee, Arise," reached 
beyond the vale of death ; called back the departed spirit 
to its lifeless remains ; and presented that young man, in 
his re-animated body, on this theater of life again. This 
stupendous miracle convinced the astonished witnesses, 
that with Jesus was the power of resurrection and life. For 
to the mourning train who could not have been deceived 
as to the death of the young man, and to the train who 
came with Jesus, who had evidently met this mourning 
group without any collusion or plan formed between them 
to deceive others — to both, it was obvious that the words 
of Jesus, " I sa} T unto thee, Arise," were accompanied with 
a divine energ} T and were the source of a resurrection to 
life. The conviction was fastened deep on their minds. 
They expressed it to one another, as they said, " A great 
prophet is risen up among us " ; " God hath visited his 
people." Through Judea and Galilee, when they dis- 
persed, they spread the report with their testimony. And 
this report, gathered from eyewitnesses by the diligent 
inquiries of the historian Luke, was published at the time 
and in the country in which the witnesses lived, without 
any denial ; to make known to all lands and ages the 

18 



130 Raising from the Dead t lie Widow's Son at Nain. 



majesty and power of Jesus our Lord. Jesus therefore 
was made manifest on that day and in this particular 
miracle, as one who hath visited us in this world of 
shadows and death with the power of life. The promises 
he put forth, that he would convey his people to an im- 
mortal life beyond the confines of the grave, and col- 
lect them together, at his second appearing on this world, 
again by resurrection— these promises were shown at this 
time to be true, not by miracle merely, but by the nature 
of the miracle in which he triumphed over death by an 
instance of resurrection, and by the manner in which he 
claimed the power of life to be in his own hands: "./say 
unto thee." As the Father hath life in himself, so hath he 
given to the Son to have life in himself. The report first 
went forth from Nain, that the dead had heard the voice 
of the Son of God and lived. Nor need we marvel at 
this : for it is but the foreshadowing of greater works that 
are to follow. For he hath said, " The hour is coming in 
the which all that are in the graves shall hear his voice 
and come forth, they that have done good unto the resur- 
rection of life, and they that have done evil unto the 
resurrection of damnation." 

Who then should not in these days, in which he waits 
on us with the opportunities of salvation, believe on him ; 
who holds in his hands the power of an ' everlasting life ' : 
and who hath left to every believer the promise " I will 
raise him up at the last day " ? Who should not believe 
on him, and secure to his soul a spiritual life w T ith him, 
even now in this mortal estate, and beyond this life a 
resurrection with him to immortal glory in heaven ? 

4. Finally : The scene at Nain assists us to appreciate 
the happiness that will attend on the meeting of pious 
households after death. 

That was a happy time when Jesus delivered the 
dead, brought back again to life, to the embrace and 
affection of his desolate parent ; when the mother and 
son, whom death had parted amid sorrows, were thus 
brought together again by a joyful resurrection. The 
tears of grief gave way to those of joy, and the sympa- 



Raising from the Dead the Widow s Sou at Nam. 131 



thizing multitude, who beheld the re-union, rejoiced in the 
consolation and gave glory to God. But great as was 
the joy, it was not complete. They met again here on 
earth, amid the trials of this mortal state. They stood 
together before Christ in his humiliation at the foot of 
Tabor ; and not in his glory on its top, as did the glori- 
fied Moses and Elias. 

There was joy even in this meeting again after death : 
but what was the joy compared to that fullness that shall 
overflow the heart, when pious households, who have been 
separated one after another by death, shall meet together 
— beyond all mortality and grief — beyond all tempta- 
tion and sin — on those heavenly heights where, in his 
glorified state, Jesus the Saviour shall receive his re- 
deemed to himself, to behold his glory and to dwell in the 
love of his Father forever. Happy indeed will it be for 
those households that shall be all gathered there, with no 
member missing ! And though no sorrow or fear shall 
ever come up to those heavenly heights — though all there 
will be filled with the love of God and acquiesce in all his 
dispensations — yet' methinks there will be a less degree of 
joy in the heart of that parent, that child, that brother, 
that sister, who looks around in vain for some of their 
once loved circle. While sad indeed to the missing 
and the absent will be their eternal parting and anguish ! 
Let parents then, let children, let brothers, let sisters, as 
they are soon to be parted from all their earthly inter- 
course by death, and as they believe in the coming and 
glory of the Lord Jesus, strive together in their prayers 
and efforts in this life to promote each other's spiritual 
welfare, so that they may reach at last a happy re-union 
in his presence amid the unchanging glories of the hea- 
venly state ! 



THE SCENE OF THE TRANSFIGURATION, AND 
THE DISCOURSE OF JESUS WITH THE THREE 
WITNESSING DISCI PIES AS THEY WERE 
DESCENDING FROM THE MOUNTAIN. 



MATT. XVII: 1-13— MARK IX: 2-13— LUKE IX: 28-36. 

Each of these sacred historians introduces his account of 
this remarkable scene, by referring back to a conversation 
which Jesus had held with the twelve, a week previously, 
in the region of Csesarea Philippi. " After six days," say 
both Matthew and Mark; referring to the intervening 
days : and Luke says, including the first and last day, " It 
came to pass about eight days after these sayings " — all 
of them dating from that one conversation. There would 
seem then to be some connection between that conversa- 
tion and this scene, which brought them together in the 
minds of the inspired historians more closely than even 
this short lapse of time. They both relate to the person 
and impending fate of Jesus. In that conversation, Christ 
had asked the twelve, ' Whom say the people that I 
am?' And when, in answer to this question, they men- 
tioned the various opinions they had heard expressed, he 
asked them again, l Whom say ye that I am ? ' Peter 
confessed that he was Christ, the Son of the living God : 
upon which, Jesus enjoined silence in regard to any such 
confession before the public at present — it being prema- 
ture ; but began a language he had never held with them 
before, about the violent treatment and death he was soon 
to suffer at Jerusalem, and his resurrection that was to 
follow on the third day ; and respecting the trials which 
were to be encountered by his followers, which it became 
them to endure if they would have eternal life when he 



134 The Transfiguration. 



assumed his glory : which event he assured them would 
take place during the lifetime of some of their number. 
This week was one then of sadness and misgiving, it 
would seem, to the apostles, in their apprehensions of the 
future. Peter had exclaimed, in regard to the foretold 
treatment of Jesus — That be far from thee, Lord— and was 
left sad with the severe rebuke of his Master. 

At a time then when the ministry of Jesus was soon to 
close in death, and when his disciples were hearing from 
his lips sad forebodings of what they were to endure, and 
could scarcely comprehend what was meant by the inti- 
mations of his death and resurrection and glory, it was, 
that he himself and three chosen ones of his disciples were 
favored with this partial foretaste of his glory. 

The place in which the scene was laid was a mountain ; 
the name is not given by either of the evangelists : but 
Matthew and Mark call it a " high" mountain. The cur- 
rent opinion of antiquity has fixed the scene on Tabor, 
one of the loftiest mountains in the holy land. Yet many 
of the moderns suppose it to have been Mount Hermon, 
a lofty branch of the Anti-Li banus range ; because this 
elevation was in the region of Caesarea Philippi, at the 
head of the Jordan, where Jesus was, the week before, 
when he began to speak of his approaching death at 
Jerusalem. Yet as six full days had passed since that 
time, it is possible surely that he should now be two or 
three days journey south in Galilee, and the opinion of 
antiquity may still be true, which fixes the scene upon 
Tabor. But whether the lofty Hermon at the north, or 
the lofty Tabor of the south, rejoiced in this visit of its 
God, may remain in doubt, while we contemplate in faith 
this great scene of the mountain top. 

Jesus, before he ascended the mount, selected from the 
twelve three only as his companions. He took a few, 
probably as more consonant to retirement from men and 
near approach to God — and still a number competent to 
give authoritative testimony. They were Peter, James 
and John: Peter, the first called of the whole band, 
whom he met on his arrival at the lake alter his expulsion 



The Transfiguration. 135 



from Nazareth, and James and John, the sons of his 
paternal aunt, the wife of Zebedee : persons, whom he 
seemed to have regarded with peculiar attachment, as his 
most intimate friends among the twelve — a feeling belong- 
ing to human nature, even in the holiest and most liberal 
and expansive in their benevolence ; — persons, who before 
had been selected from the band by him to be witnesses 
in the room at the raising of Jairus' daughter ; and who 
were afterwards his companions in that scene of agony 
which he endured, on the night of his betrayal, in his last 
retirement for prayer before his crucifixion, in the garden 
of Gethsemane. 

With these three chosen disciples he ascends the mount, 
probably towards the close of day, or in the evening; for 
the glory, the cloud of light, the drowsiness of the dis- 
ciples, and the declaration of Luke ix : 37, that they 
descended from the mount the next day, all show that, 
like the scene in Gethsemane, this also was a scene of the 
night. At an hour when all nature seems retiring to 
silence and rest on the care of its God, he leaves the 
presence and habitations of men, and seeks the high 
mountain top, that he and his disciples may be apart hy 
themselves, with nothing but the wakeful eye and heart 
of God turned toward them, that they may approach 
more nearly and intimately into his presence in prayer. 
There, with the broad heaven from which he came and 
whither he was to ascend, spread over his head, and with 
that world, which he came to save, wrapped in darkness 
and sleep far beneath his feet ; there, looking forward to 
that scene of agony soon to be encountered, which had 
occupied his thoughts and the thoughts of his disciples 
during the week that was past — agony, through which 
alone he was to reach again his exalted throne and raise 
up with him from the earth a redeemed people; there, 
as a Mediator between heaven and earth, pressed with 
impending trial, he pours out his soul for strength and 
victory in 'breathings of fervent prayer unto his Father. 
He prayed with strong crying and tears unto God, who 
was able to deliver him, and he was heard in respect to 



136 The Transfiguration. 

that which he feared ; and, to encourage his heart, he 
was, for a few moments, invested by the Father with a 
shadow of the glory to which he was to be permanently 
exalted after enduring his agonies. " As he prayed, the 
fashion of his countenance," says Luke, " was altered " — 
" became another" : Matthew and Mark say that " he was 
transfigured " — " passed beyond the form or figure he 
had to another " — " was transformed." The change how- 
ever was not to a form so essentially new in the mould 
and outlines as not to be still clearly recognized by the 
disciples as that of Jesus. But the expression passed 
from the former lines of earthly care to the glow of 
godlike majesty and serenity : and, instead of the faint 
reflections cast upon it from the stars before, that made it 
barely visible, it has now become self-radiant with light 
as a^ sun. The brief description given of his altered 
appearance is the following : " His face did shine as the 
sun" (Matthew). " His raiment became shining, exceed- 
ing white as snow, so as no fuller on earth can white 
them " (Mark). His face glowed with a golden radiance 
as of the sun, and his raiment was shining in a pure white, 
beyond the brilliancy of the sun-light reflected from the 
snow. This visible form of light and majesty was the 
same as that in which, after his ascension, he was seen by 
John in his vision at Patmos — and was now a temporary 
representation, to himself and the disciples, of the splen- 
dor of his heavenly and eternal state. As this glory 
passed upon his person, suddenly he was visited from the 
heavenly world by Elijah, who nine hundred years before 
was translated to that world, and by Moses, who more 
than fifteen hundred years before had been taken away 
from Israel on Nebo. " Behold there talked with him 
two men, which were Moses and Elias, who appeared in 
glory " — themselves radiant in their glorified forms. The 
subject of the conversation is mentioned by Luke. They 
" spake of his decease which he should accomplish at 
Jerusalem." The term which the evangelist uses, it is to 
be remarked, is not death, but departure out of the world 
— exodus. The conversation therefore extended beyond 



The Transfiguration. 137 



the agony of the death he was to suffer, to the exodus he 
was to make, as the leader of his ransomed, beyond this 
world of trial to the world of eternal rest. The subject 
was the eternal glory he would obtain to himself through 
the sufferings of his departure and how in that hour also 
he woidd conquer sin, death and hell, the foes of his 
people, and ever after rejoice in witnessing their eternal 
escape and redemption. The great lawgiver who had 
conducted Israel from their earthly bondage to Canaan, 
and had bidden them expect on their land the coming of 
this Saviour, and an eminent one in the line of those 
prophets, who taught Israel for a succession of ages to 
look forward to him as their hope, seem deputed at this 
hour from the heavenly world, as appropriate messengers, 
to bear to Jesus an expression of the hopes which the 
Church of the first-born in heaven are all reposing on 
him as they wait for him to come among them after the 
hour of his sacrifice, a triumphant Saviour, establishing 
them in their justified and glorified state to eternity. 
They may also point to the long train of believers in the 
Christian Church whom they will yet see gathered to their 
company in heaven, as the fruit of his sufferings, in the 
coming ages of his reign. We have not been permitted 
indeed to hear the particulars of that deeply interesting 
conversation : but doubtless, at that hour of foretaste of 
his future glory among his redeemed people in heaven, 
fresh courage and strength was infused into his heart to 
go forward to endure that sharp conflict, out of which he 
was to pass into such exalted glory and joy forever, and 
by which, as at the triumphal exodus of Moses out of 
Egypt, he was to conduct the people of God in all ages 
to a permanent habitation in the heavenly Canaan. 

But before this strange change had passed upon the 
person of the Saviour, and before the arrival of these 
heavenly visitants — while yet he was pouring out his soul 
in prayer, and was covered with the shades of night and 
distress — the disciples, it seems, fell asleep, as afterwards 
they did in Gethsemane. During this momentary sleep 
of the disciples, as Luke apprises us, the change took 

19 



138 The Transfiguration, 



place : and, as they awake, this new scene is spread forth 
in its glory. " But Peter and they that were with him 
were heavy with sleep ; and when they were awake, they 
saw his glory, and the two men that stood with him." 
They were waked probably by the sudden gleam of light 
that shone around them and illuminated the mountain 
top ; and beheld with surprise their Lord, all shining in 
this glorious state, and at his side two heavenly attend- 
ants, resplendent in glory. They wait in breathless 
silence, as they hear these heavenly visitants converse 
with their Lord, and as they learn from the conversation 
their names and the stations they occupied while in the 
earthly Church. In this state of astonishment, as if in a 
species of ecstacy at the glory of his Lord, Peter ven- 
tures to exclaim to Jesus: " Master, it is good for us to 
be here; and let us make three tabernacles" — alluding to 
the booths or arbors constructed of the branches of thick 
foliaged trees, in which the Jews resided during the joy- 
ous feast of the tabernacles — " one for thee, and one for 
Moses, and one for Eli as." For the moment, he felt that 
he never wished his Master to descend from this heavenly 
state to earthly cares and trials again, and would forever 
stay there himself in such heavenly society. But the 
historian represents him as " not knowing what he said." 
In making his strange proposal to jesus, the same feeling 
was manifest that had received, a week before, the rebuke 
of his Master — the desire that it should be far from Jesus 
to undergo a violent death at Jerusalem, and leave his 
followers to encounter the hostility of the world. 

But no sooner has Peter uttered these emotions, than a 
new appearance attracts the attention of the astonished 
disciples. The emblem of the presence ol the Eternal 
Father — a dense cloud, whose whole surface is radiant with 
light, appears, enveloping Jesus and his attendants, and 
circling round the more distant disciples with its massy 
folds. u While he thus spake, there came a cloud and 
overshadowed them, " says Luke ; "a bright cloud," says 
Matthew, " overshadowed them : and behold a voice out 
of the cloud which said, This is my beloved Son, in whom 



The Transfiguration. 139 



I am well pleased : hear ye him." This testimony from 
the Father enforced upon the disciples the instructive 
lesson they were to receive from the scene they now wit- 
nessed — that Jesus was the beloved Son of God, who, as 
sole Heir to his estate and kingdom, was to be exalted to 
the head of the whole creation : in whose conduct, as a 
Redeemer come on earth to make known the Father to 
men and to endure the sufferings of the cross to sustain 
his righteousness in the salvation of his people, he, the 
Father, was well pleased : and whose voice of instruction 
they were to regard as speaking forth his will, with a 
personal authority greater than that of Moses and the 
prophets, who were mere servants to him, the great Son 
and Heir. Thus, — in that glimpse of the heavenly state, 
in which Christ shone as head over Moses and Elias, and 
in this voice from the excellent glory , in which the Father 
placed him at his own right hand as his Son and Heir to 
his throne, — the disciples and Jesus were together assured, 
that he was conducting his people as their Head to an 
everlasting kingdom. 

But as this cloud of glory invested all, and as this voice 
was uttered, the disciples for a while seem overpowered 
with their emotions. " They feared, as they entered into 
the cloud " (Luke). " And when the disciples heard it," 
—the voice — (Matthew) — " they fell on their face and 
were sore afraid." And as they were thus dismayed 
with the terror of the divine majesty, " Jesus came and 
touched them, and said, Arise, and be not afraid." This 
well known voice of their friend re-assured their hearts. 
" And when they had lifted up their eyes, the)' saw no 
man, save Jesus only." The glory and terror of the scene 
were past : and again they were alone with Jesus, and he, 
their familiar friend, clothed as before in the common garb 
of humanity. They were prepared now to descend again 
to the world they had left, and enter on the duties and 
trials that were to intervene before they reached the hea- 
venly state. " And as they came down from the moun- 
tain, Jesus charged them, saying, Tell the vision to no 
man, until the Son of Man be risen again from the dead " 



140 The Transfiguration. 



(Matthew). The reason for this injunction of silence till 
that period may have been, that their testimony would at 
that future time be more credible than now to the multi- 
tude, and be less apt to excite jealousy in the less favored 
disciples who were not present. In regard to the injunc- 
tion Luke adds, " And they kept that saying" with them- 
selves, questioning one with another what the rising from 
the dead should mean" : involved in this perplexity proba- 
bly, because they as yet held to the idea of a temporal 
kingdom, and were unwilling to admit the thought of the 
death of their Lord. But after this injunction of silence 
was given, the disciples asked Jesus the following ques- 
tion : " Why then say the scribes that Elias must first 
come ? " The connection of this question with the pre- 
vious injunction of silence is of this kind. Elias has come 
from heaven, as we have just seen, upon the mount. The 
scribes constantly say, that Elias will re-appear on earth 
before Messiah comes, and that he will prepare the people 
for his kingdom ; and now they plead his non-appearance, 
as a reason for rejecting thee. Why do they say that 
Elias must first come ? Is it not true ? Why then may 
we not tell this vision, and assure them that Elias has 
come ? Is he to come again in a more public and solemn 
manner ? The answer of Christ is to this effect ; that the 
scribes have erred, in concluding that the prophetic Elias 
that was to come is literally Elijah the Tishbite, whom 
these disciples have now seen on the mount : and that, 
involved in this error, they have rejected the true Elias, 
who has already come heralding the Messiah, and would 
in like manner also reject and condemn him, the heralded 
Messiah. "Jesus answered and said unto them : (Matt.) 
Elias truly shall first come and restore all things. But I 
say unto you, ttyat Elias has come already, and they knew 
him not, but have done unto him whatsoever they listed : 
likewise also shall the Son of Man suffer of them. Then 
the disciples understood that he spake to them of John 
the Baptist." In this manner was the glorious scene of 
the mount ended, and Jesus and the three came down 
again, to unite with the whole band of the disciples. 



The Transfiguration. 14 1 



From this scene of the mount of transfiguration, we 
may derive the following lessons of practical instruction. 

1. It assures us of a heavenly glory obtained by Jesus 
for all the people of God, to which we should aspire 
as our final home. At that hour a brief foreshadowing 
of the heavenly world was brought down to the mount, 
and all that glory centered around and upon Jesus as 
its Author and Source. His altered visage wore the 
glory, that was to shine forth from him on the throne 
of God. Moses and Elias came down from heaven, 
showing that they had existed in a glorious state in 
heaven since they left the world, and that they and all 
believers, who looked forward in preceding ages to the 
coming of Christ as their Saviour, were resting on his 
decease at Jerusalem as the foundation of their accept- 
ance with God. Three of the apostles were there to 
witness the glory of that Lord, whom they were follow- 
ing in faith, and whom they were to proclaim one day 
to the wide world, as the Author of eternal salvation. 
And soon around all and over all, the cloud of divine 
glory rested, and the voice of the Eternal Father pro- 
nounced over Jesus, and to the representatives of heaven 
and earth, ' This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well 
pleased : hear ye him.' 

Who, on that mountain top, could doubt that there is a 
heavenly glory beyond this life for the people of God, 
and that Jesus, the Son of the Eternal Father, was ap- 
pointed to procure it for them, as their immediate Head 
and Lord? But the glory of that hour, which strength- 
ened Jesus on his own way to death and victory, and 
which set him forth to his attendants as the Hope of 
Israel, was sealed up in silence to the hour of his resur- 
rection. The three favored apostles pondered the vision, 
and the words of Christ as to his death and resurrection ; 
but no man on earth, not any of their fellow apostles, 
heard of the scene till after it was fulfilled in the king-dom 
of God. But when apostles, having attended Jesus till 
after his death and exodus by a glorious ascension to the 
throne, went forth everywhere to preach him crucified, as 



142 The Transfiguration. 



the Author of eternal life, this scene was made known as 
among the evidences he left that he had gone into heaven, 
having obtained eternal redemption for his people. Peter, 
the apostle most prominent in that scene as a speaker, has 
left us this testimony concerning it ; when, at an advanced 
period of life, expecting shortly to put off this tabernacle, 
he thus exhorted those who had obtained like precious 
faith through the righteousness of God our Saviour Jesus 
Christ. " Brethren, give diligence to make your calling 
and election sure : for so an entrance shall be ministered 
unto you abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of our 
Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. For we have not fol- 
lowed cunningly devised fables, when we made knovVn 
unto you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
but were eye-witnesses of his majesty. For he received 
from God the Father honor and glory, when there came 
such a voice to him from the excellent glory, This is my 
beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased. And this voice 
which came from heaven we heard, when we were with 
him on the hoi} 7 mount." 

What a glorious world beyond this life is thus opened 
to our faith and hope, where the Eternal Father and his 
Son Jesus Christ shine forth as its fadeless light, and 
where the ransomed of all ages are gathered together to 
dwell before the cloudless throne in joy and love forever! 
What a mercy to our world, that lay T enwrapped in the 
shades of death and endless night, that the Son of God 
has visited it from on high ; that, by his decease at Jerusa- 
lem, he has parted the vail of eternity and opened for us 
sinners a way into the kingdom of heaven ; that he has 
caused the radiance of that eternal world to fall on us to 
attract our hearts, and bidden us follow him on the way, 
that we may find our everlasting home and treasures there 
with him and his Father. Let us fix the eye of faith and 
hope intently on that state of glory 7 . 'Let us seek earnestly 
to secure within it our final dwelling. Let us fear lest any 
of us seem even to come short of so glorious a kingdom ! 

From this scene in the life of Jesus, we learn, 



The Trail s Jig it ra t io u. 143 



2. That when the duties and trials which we are to en- 
counter on the way to heaven press heavily on our minds, 
we should seek relief and strength in prayer. 

Jesus thus, when the suffering which the Father had 
appointed him to endure at Jerusalem began to weigh 
sorely on his mind and was broached by him to his disci- 
ples, betook himself to prayer. He retires apart from men, 
in the shades of night, to the mountain top, to pour out his 
soul to God for strength. That work which concerned 
the glory of his Father above and the salvation of the 
world below, and which rested upon him to achieve so 
soon, was a burden he sought strength to bear. And 
while he pleads with fervent desires for strength to ac- 
complish his task and secure the glorious rewards of vic- 
tory, the Father hears ; and strengthens his heart with 
foretastes of the personal glory he will win, and the joy 
he will occasion the ransomed, by his decease at Jerusa- 
lem. The mount of prayer affords an antepast of heav- 
enly joy, — a foretaste of his glory when, as the well- 
beloved Son of the Father, he shall ascend with the 
multitudes of his saints to heaven as the reward of his 
toils and sufferings. 

In this resort to prayer he has set us an example where 
we are to find our strength, when pressed by the cares 
and trials that we encounter on our path to heaven. Like 
him, we are to betake ourselves to God for strength. Be- 
fore him who appoints us our burdens, we may freely 
pour out our fears and sorrows, and from him obtain the 
help and grace we need. He has all the resources of our 
strength at his command. He can, in answer to our 
prayer, grant above what we ask or think. The elements 
of this world and its population are all subject to his con- 
trol. He can send heavenly messengers to us with their 
refreshing ministry. He can cause the brightness of his 
own infinite love and wisdom and power to pass before 
us ; he can enter our hearts with his own comforting 
Spirit, and sweeten the toils and sufferings he appoints us 
with foretastes of heavenly joy. 



144 The Transfiguration. 



Brethren, let us learn of Jesus where to look for our 
strength. In his trials he retired into the presence of his 
Father. 

Cold mountains and the midnight air 
Witnessed the fervor of his prayer." 

Ours is the same refuge, in duty, in trials and sufferings. 

When storms of sorrow round us sweep, 
And scenes of anguish make us weep ; 
We'll look and see the Saviour there, 
, And humbly bow, like him, in prayer. 

I remark, again, 

3. The foretastes of heavenly joy granted on earth are 
temporary, intended not to take the place of the duties of 
life, but to strengthen us in their performance. 

Peter and his companions, when they awoke to behold 
the glory of their Lord and of his heavenly visitants, and 
saw the mountain top illuminated with the glory, felt that 
they were high above the dark world below and its cares ; 
that they were on the mount of vision ; that they were on 
the verge of heaven and its eternal glories. Emotions of 
strange wonder and exstatic joy fill their hearts. They 
are lost as in a pleasing revery, from which they desire 
never to be broken. " Master," exclaims Peter, — as if he 
had forgotten every care and duty of life, and the very 
errand of his Master in coming to the mount, — " Master, 
it is good for us to be here : and let us build three taber- 
nacles." Here would he keep a perpetual feast with his 
Lord and his heavenly visitors. But the vision was in- 
tended only as a transient glimpse of the glories that lie 
beyond the vail of time. It was to strengthen for the 
duties and trials of life yet remaining : not to take their 
place. It could not last. Jesus and his disciples must 
leave the mount, go down to the world below, and set 
themselves to the duties and the conflicts which God had 
appointed them on their way to heaven. 

So is it with believers on their course. Amid their 
duties and trials, it is their privilege to draw near to God 
and refresh their hearts with the joys of his presence. 



The Transfiguration. 145 



And they may feel at times, when favored most with the 
divine presence, as it they would forever forsake all other 
cares and employments, to indulge only in these heavenly 
emotions and divine joys. They are on the mount of ex- 
static bliss. They would never go down again to the 
cares and sorrows of earth. But not such are the ap- 
pointments of heaven. This is the world of their labors : 
that of their eternal rest is yet to come. The honor of 
God, the welfare of their race, their own progress in 
knowledge and holiness, call them to the discharge of 
active and laborious duties, and to the endurance of many 
and severe trials. Let believers learn then to prize their 
seasons of communion with God, as times in which to 
gather strength and refreshing to their hearts amid their 
duties and trials, not as substitutes to take their place, to 
prepare them for the discharge of their many active and 
passive duties of piety and benevolence, not to exalt 
them above these duties. 

4. The voice of Jesus calms the hearts of his people 
when they are overwhelmed with the fearful glories of 
God. 

The glories of the divine majesty are too bright for the 
endurance of mortal natures. We could not look on God 
and live. When his fearful majesty is revealed to us in the 
thunder, in the earthquake, in the utterance of his holy 
law, in the threatenings of his eternal curse, emotions of 
terror seize our hearts, and we are ready, like the apos- 
tles, as they entered the cloud and heard the voice of the 
divine presence, to fall prostrate in awe and terror before 
our God. But Jesus meets the fallen and trembling as 
the minister of grace, bearing upon him their nature, 
touched with the feeling of their infirmities, and bids 
them "arise, be not afraid." He lifts them up from their 
fears, to see in him, God reconciled, to hear in him, God 
as their teacher, to follow in him, God as their example, 
and to find in him, God their exceeding great and eternal 
portion. His voice allays the tempests of the mind — and 
calms the troubled waters of the hearts — uttering sweet 
promises from God, of forgiveness and eternal life in his 

20 



146 The Transfiguration. 



kingdom. Wherever his voice is heard, there may his 
disciples follow without fear. The work, for which he 
came down to earth, was to conduct the humble and 
believing to heaven : and he, who is the well-beloved Son 
of the Father and is accepted by him, and strengthened 
by him in this work, will not fail to complete the work 
and to see all his obedient followers safe through all their 
fears and sorrows. Let them fear not then, when they 
hear his voice and follow it, — though he call them up into 
the awful presence of God, though he lead them down to 
fearful conflicts among their fellow men. Whenever and 
wherever he leadeth them forth, he goeth before them as 
their Guide and Protector, and so long as they hear his 
voice and follow it — in precept, in invitation, in encour- 
agement, or in warning — they know that their Heavenly 
Shepherd is nigh. They trust in his care, and are not 
afraid. His presence quells their fears. Their hearts are 
established in quietness and peace on the everlasting rock 
of his love. 

5. They who follow Christ are led by him from their 
errors into truth, while his enemies are left in their errors 
to oppose the plans of God and perish. 

These different consequences, which arise from the dif- 
ferent manner in which Christ is treated, are clearly ex- 
emplified in the case of the disciples as they descended 
with Jesus from the mount, and of the scribes as it was 
represented in the discourse of Jesus. The disciples, it 
seems, cherished the same opinion as the scribes concern- 
ing the coming of Elias : the opinion, that the prophetic 
passage in Malachi, IV : 5, which represents Elias to come 
to prepare the way of the Messiah, referred literally to 
the return of Elijah the Tishbite to the earth, and not, as 
a prophetic symbol, to a new prophet coming in the spirit 
and power of Elijah — the spirit and power by which he 
brought Israel back from Baal to Jehovah — the spirit of 
repentance and reformation. No doubt the disciples at 
this time saw evidence enough to convince them that 
Jesus was the Messiah, without this sign of Elias: yet 
they were expecting this sign also. And when on the 



The Transfiguration. 147 



mount Elijah appeared, they concluded, no doubt, that 
they had seen this prophetical signal, and were prepared 
to tell the unbelieving, even the scribes, of this evidence. 
And when Jesus enjoined upon them utter silence, as to the 
whole scene, to some future day, the wrong opinion they 
entertained was made obvious in their questions to Jesus. 
The opportunity was thus clearly presented to Jesus to 
make known to them their error, and that of the scribes 
in regard to this prophetic mark of the Messiah. He 
kindly instructs them, and corrects them of their error by 
making known to them the truth. Elias, indeed, must 
first come : but not the translated and heavenly Elijah. 
He will not leave the glories of his heavenly state, to en- 
counter the trials of earth again in preaching repentance. 
The Elias of prophecy has already come, and these very 
scribes who pretend to demand his presence have rejected 
him and are read)' to condemn me. The truth was now 
clear and obvious to their minds. The} 7 saw that John 
the Baptist had fulfilled the prophetic character of Elias. 
And this new signal, in harmony with the many others 
that had already convinced them, added new strength to 
their faith. They go forth from the glory of the mount, 
and with these new views of prophecy imparted to them 
on their descent by their teacher — to cleave to Jesus 
with increasing faith, and to follow him on the path to 
heaven with new courage and with livelier hopes. While 
the scribes in their enmity, refusing to hear and learn the 
truth from his lips, still cling to their error, and, embold- 
ened by it, grow more hardened in their opposition to the 
Saviour ; and, far from the way of life, fall beneath the 
curse of God, and perish in their sins. 

Thus is it, that the) 7 who follow Jesus find, by his in- 
struction and teaching, their knowledge, their faith, their 
hopes increased as they advance towards heaven, while 
they that reject him and refuse the light and aid of his 
instructions sink deeper into error, doubt, and darkness 
on their way to eternity ; and must find on their entrance 
into that world, that they have opposed the plans adopted 
of God for salvation — that thev have wandered forever 



148 The Transfiguration. 



from Jesus Christ, the only source of forgiveness and 
healing — and must perish forever beneath the weight of 
remediless guilt, remorse, despair, and anguish. 

My friends, if you would enter into a heaven of glory 
beyond this mortal state ; if you would have a refuge 
amid the ills and burdens of the present life ; if you 
would cheer and strengthen yourselves on your way, 
with foretastes of the joy and glory to come ; if you 
would hear the voice of a Comforter and Almighty Friend, 
to quell your rising fears and apprehensions on the way ; 
if you would go on increasing in knowledge and love and 
hope and joy to the end ; look to Jesus, the beloved Son 
of God, who has come to make known to us the love and 
grace of our Heavenly Father. Follow him, who by his 
death has opened the kingdom of heaven to believers, 
and who shines as their Mediator and Lord on its throne. 
Follow him, who guides his obedient people through this 
life by his counsel, and at life's close admits them with 
his own cheering voice into glory. 



MAN'S IGNORANCE RESPECTING HIS FUTURE 

IN THIS LIFE. 

[A BACCALAUREATE SERMON.] 



ECCLESIASTES VI: 12. 



Who knoweth what is good for man in this life, all the days of his 
vain life, which he spendeth as a shadow? 

What is this life of man ? How short and hurried 
from infancy to the grave ! It passes like the shadow of 
the passing cloud that flits across the plain and dis- 
appears, leaving no trace behind. Vain as the airy 
bubble which, as its rainbow tints of glory attract the 
gaze, is gone. Brief days and few, comprehend it all : 
and these are often days of empty illusions, and hopes 
ending in vanity and vexation of spirit. 

What is good for man in this life ? Who knoweth ? 
Who can tell what schemes for happiness he will have 
length of life or power to accomplish ? Who can tell 
what schemes, if successful, will most advance his tem- 
poral interests ? Who, what degree of temporal pros- 
perity will best comport with his spiritual and eternal 
interests ? Who knoweth these things ? or who that is 
ignorant on these points, can know what is in reality 
good for man ? 

The question of Solomon will have far different mean- 
ings attached to it, accordingly as we suppose it to come 
from the lips of a skeptic, who denies the existence of 
God and a future state, or of the believer, who admits 
both. From the skeptic, the question would imply that 
man passes his whole existence here in utter ignorance 
of any good that is worthy of his pursuit, dreaming amid 
shadows that terminate in endless night. From the be- 
liever, that man is ignorant, not of a good worthy of 
his pursuit, but ol that temporal condition in life, and 






1 5 o Ma n ' s Ign or a? ice Respect ing h is Fit ture in th is L ife . 



those temporal schemes which will be truly good to him, 
as the means of advancing his true welfare on the long 
line of his endless existence. 

This is the thought, which will now occupy our atten- 
tion—that man is ignorant as to what in temporal things 
is best for his welfare. 

Let us look at this ignorance, in regard to its nature, its 
extent, and its causes. 

I. It is not ignorance as to the intrinsic nature of good 
and evil. Good and evil, both natural and moral, are 
things clearly known to man. Indeed, the distinctions 
between right and wrong, and happiness and misery, are 
among the earliest lessons he acquires in life. His own 
nature is the deep seat of this knowledge. His own 
experience writes the lesson in plain and indelible char- 
acters. v His observation of his fellow men ever confirms 
the truth of his own experiences. 

Nor again, is he necessarily ignorant of the great object 
to which it is good to devote this life, or what are truly 
good and useful rules of living. The Creator has made 
known enough of himself and the laws and plans of his 
righteous government, to point out to man the true and 
only path to a happy life and glorious immortality in his 
kingdom. In the works of creation he sets forth his 
eternal power and Godhead, so as to leave without the 
excuse of ignorance all who refuse to glorify him as God. 
In the riches of his forbearing and compassionate provi- 
dence towards man, he calls upon him to return to him in 
repentance, and not waste these days of forbearance in 
hardening his heart and aggravating his final doom. 
Knowledge therefore of the true object of the present 
life is published abroad by the Creator through his works, 
even among the very heathen. Who then that has come 
to the knowledge of the Gospel, and hears God in Christ 
expressly calling upon him to pursue the path that leads 
to virtue and eternal glory, can claim ignorance of what 
object and rules of action are good for man ? 

But the ignorance justly attributable to man in regard 
to the good or evil of the present life, relates simply to the 



Mans Ignorance Respecting his Future in this Life. 151 



particulars of his temporal lot, as to what of good or 
evil will accrue to him from any merely temporal pursuit 
or condition. In managing his temporal affairs, and at- 
tempting to elevate his worldly estate, he cannot foresee 
what the precise and final result to himself will be — 
whether happy or disastrous. He is ignorant therefore 
of what, in the matters of the present life, is best for him. 
He knoweth not whether this or that course will prove 
prosperous, or whether both alike will not be adverse. 

II. Let us now look over this field of his ignorance, and 
see its extent — how much there is here to affect the wel- 
fare of man, of the precise result of which he is yet in 
complete ignorance. This pall of ignorance covers this 
whole temporal scene- — all the days of this vain life — this 
life, through whose mazes man passes not only with the 
rapidity, but in the darkness of " a shadow." From 
infancy to the grave, each step is taken by him in ignor- 
ance of precisely the onward and far stretching results. 

But let us analyze, and look more distinctly at, the sepa- 
rate things in this great field of our temporal life, which 
are to affect our welfare, — and of the precise result of 
which, whether for good or evil, we are ignorant. 

Man knoweth not, 1 observe, when he engages in any 
particular temporal scheme, whether he will meet with 
success in it or defeat. He may indeed bring to his aid 
the wisdom and experience of others, as well as his own, 
in devising his schemes; and there may appear to him 
that reasonable prospect of success, which is necessary 
to keep hope alive and stir up to industry. Yet for 
the actual result he must wait in suspense. He knows 
not whether he will be competent to cope with every 
obstacle that may rise up in his path. Defeat may over- 
take the wisest plans. The activity of others may fore- 
close the avenues to success. Unexpected dispensations 
of providence withdraw the means. The heart faint ; the 
health decline ; life itself close, in the midst of the race. 

Man knoweth not again, whether any particular instance 
of temporal success will promote or hinder his general 
prosperity in life. He knows indeed, that success in 



152 Man s Ignorance Respecting his Future in this Life. 



obtaining any valuable object is to be put down, on the 
balance sheet of life, as an item on the side of prosperity ; 
and that the sum total that is gained and kept during the 
progress of life, is to decide whether that life on the whole 
has been one of temporal prosperity or adversity. But 
whether prosperity in one thing, and at one particular 
period in life, will advance his prosperity in all the days 
of this life, how can he tell ? That which he gains he 
may not be able to keep, and partial success at one time 
may hinder success in other things and at other periods 
of life. The friends you gain, the property you acquire, 
the reputation awarded you, in early life, may prove not 
the prospering gale and expanding sheet that is to bear 
your bark onward in safety to the port, but the syren 
song of the tempter, or the dead weights of care, or the 
fierce winds of passion, that set you on the backward 
current, and fill the voyage of life with disappointment 
and disaster. 

Still again, man knoweth not whether any degree of 
temporal prosperity he may acquire will prove a good, in 
its results on his moral and spiritual interests. In both 
temporal prosperity and adversity the voice of God may be 
heard and heeded, or, on the contrary, the voice of Jut man 
passions. Calls to duty may be heard in them, or solici- 
tations to sin. Who then knoweth beforehand what in 
this life will prove good for him, whether prosperity or 
adversity will most favor him, in relation to a moral and 
religious life — and the endless life that is to come. Pros- 
perity may speak of the kindness of God, of the duty of 
acting as his steward, and of the opportunities, fair and 
multiplied, of doing good : yet to weak and erring man, it 
may but bring pride and idleness and sin, fostering the 
animal passions in their growth, and deadening the reli- 
gious sensibilities of the heart. How many, who walked 
humbly and carefully in their early days, when exalted 
by prosperity have fallen into profligacy and vice, and 
ruined their peace and their hopes for eternity ! Adver- 
sity too may remind man of his feebleness, his guilt and 
unworthiness, and show him the correcting hand of God 



Ma/i's Ignorance Respecting his Future in this Life. 153 



that seeks to advance his holiness ; and yet, to weak and 
selfish man, it may prove but the occasion of fostering 
rebellion and murmurings of heart against God, and of 
envy, malice, and fraud towards the prosperous among 
men. Who then knoweth what particular temporal lot 
is best — what will prove truly good to him on the long 
line of endless years which are before him, and to which 
this life is but the stepping-stone and entrance — what will 
best secure his love and moral obedience towards God, 
and fit and ripen his spirit for the glories of heaven ? 

III. Let us now trace this ignorance of man to its 
causes. 

Man, however little he may think of it, while daily 
busied on the theater and in the pursuits of this life, is 
inseparably connected with the providence of God, and 
his very being interwoven into the deep plans of the 
Creator. The springs of his welfare lie beyond himself, 
beyond the created universe around him, — in the good 
pleasure and gracious working of the Almighty. His 
ignorance therefore of what is best for him in this scene 
of earthly providences, may be traced to three causes : — to 
the imperfection and weakness of his own nature ; to the 
complicate means and influences of divine providence 
surrounding him, that bear on his welfare ; and to the 
ability of God, by the presence or withdrawal of his 
Spirit, to render at will all earthly conditions alike the 
means of good or evil, a blessing or a curse. 

Man is a creature limited and weak. His views, feel- 
ings and purposes are continually exposed to change. He 
cannot therefore build on his present self the calculations 
of entire certainty. He cannot see, from what he now is, 
precisely what he will be in the future, or tell what may 
then be the effect of things upon him, from the manner in 
which they affect him now. That which pleases him to- 
day, may not on the morrow. That which benefits him 
to-day, may lose its influence upon him to-morrow. That 
which meets him harmless now, may tempt him to evil 
then. His own being, which is weaving along this woof 
of life, by its weakness, its fickleness, its changes, thus 

21 



I 54 Man s Ignorance Respecting his Future in this Life. 



baffles his calculations of the future. His own being, that 
is subject to the plans of providence, does not remain 
that one fixed thing, that the same external things should 
forever have upon it one and the same effect. Here then 
is one source of his ignorance of good in this life. He is 
himself too variable a quantity to be always affected alike 
by the same things. He cannot therefore calculate the 
effect that the varying conditions of life will have upon 
him, even should he have power to foretell what those 
conditions shall be. 

Again, the complicate nature of the means and influ- 
ences that providence employs to bear on his welfare, is 
another source of this ignorance. In this vast earthly 
scene of human life, how many things, how various 
beyond all human computation, are influencing the feel- 
ings and working on the destiny of man. His animal 
constitution, with all its parts and propensities ; his men- 
tal, with all its powers and faculties ; his moral, with all 
its varied sensibilities, constitute a little world of causes 
and influences that bear mutually on one another and con- 
stantly on his welfare. The many objects and varying 
scenes of the natural world, and the varied influences 
that come up to him from the world of his fellow-crea- 
tures, all conspire to work upon him for good or evil. 
Here then are causes constantly affecting his well-being, 
too numerous and complicate for his limited mind to 
comprehend fully, and accurately compute. How then 
shall he arrive at the knowledge of precise results to 
himself in the future, from their causes ? What his earthly 
condition will be on the morrow, or how that condition 
will affect his welfare, are questions involved in such an 
intricate maze of causes and effects, that no reasoning on 
his part from cause to effect can solve the problem. They 
can be known beforehand only to that omniscient One, 
who guides the illimitable means of his providence at 
will. How then can man, involved in this complicate 
maze of providence, tell what particular earthly condi- 
tion will come to him on the morrow, or know whether 



Man's Ignorance Respecting his Future in this Life. 155 



his lot to-day will work to him for good or ill in the 
future ? 

But still further, the mind and will of God as to final 
results are not known from the particular outward lot he 
assigns to man. He can employ at will the same earthly 
providences in kind, both for good or evil. His plan is to 
constitute this life a scene of discipline for the moral trial 
of men and their training for another life. He employs 
the temporal gifts and bounties of his providence, to sup- 
port and comfort man on his way indeed, yet not as the 
end, but as a means in subordination to the higher end of 
carrying forward a plan of moral government and 
redemption, which is to issue in calling the obedient and 
faithful to eternal salvation and glory. No man knoweth 
then good or evil from God's distribution or withdrawal 
of merely earthly gifts. For, by means of the spiritual 
influences he employs through the revelation of Jesus 
Christ and a future state, and the power of his own 
Spirit, he can turn the same outward providences, which, 
through the perversion of man, become occasions of 
moral evil and ruin, into means of spiritual obedience and 
holiness. The good or evil accruing to man from earthly 
things can be truly estimated, only from the spiritual 
and eternal results which they are made to work within 
him — whether their effect is to bring his soul to the love, 
service and enjoyment of God, or to draw it away from 
God into the evils of sin, self-reproach and malice. God 
therefore is able to confound all human calculations, by 
turning any temporal condition of man into a good or an 
evil, a blessing or a curse. He can impart or he can with- 
hold his Spirit, and in this way turn the issue. He can 
make all his providential dealings work together for good 
to them that love him, who are called according to his 
plan and purpose. He can make all work together for ill 
to them that hate him, and are rejected. How then shall 
man know good or evil from merely outward and tem- 
poral providences ? He must seek his good from God 
himself, and not from his gifts. He must wait on God 
for the development of his hidden counsels of grace. He 



I 56 Mail s Ignorance Respecting his Future in this Life. 



must solve the question of good or evil to himself in this 
life, by waiting on God for his decisions of grace or judg- 
ment, of eternal life or death. 

If then we consider man as subject to the deep plans of 
infinite wisdom, how weak and changeable a being he is, 
how many and complicate causes and influences in the 
universe around him bear on his welfare, and Iioav able 
God is to overrule every earthly state and condition for 
good or evil at his pleasure, is it any wonder that man 
should be ever ignorant, in his progress through life, of 
what earthly lot is best for his welfare ? 

We may derive from this subject some lessons of prac- 
tical wisdom. 

1. Let then your ignorance in regard to the things of 
this life, teach you moderation in your worldly schemes 
and pursuits. You are not your own lords and masters 
in the creation. There is an infinitely greater and wiser 
being over you, who has linked y r ou to the plans of his 
own providence, and is watching over your interests. 
Be not rash and precipitate in your plans. Be not over 
confident in your ability to command success. Be not 
over eager in your expectations from the world. How 
often is the folly x of this excessive confidence and eager- 
ness in the pursuit of worldly 7 good, reproved in the after 
revelations of providence. The men guilty T of it, think 
the objects they T seek are secure. As they rush forward 
in the chase, the treasures they covet float before them 
as realities : the way T to them seems clear; the vision of 
their gloiw is bright : the heart expands with large hopes 
of coming joy. How does this over eagerness defeat the 
happiness and welfare of man. It unfits him for either 
disappointment or success. It gives to him, in disappoint- 
ment, the heaviest pangs of wounded pride and blasted 
hopes. It renders success a curse, which ministers to 
that lust of the world and pride of life which separate 
him from the love of his Father in heaven. 

2. Again, let this ignorance of what is best for y T ou in 
this temporal life, teach y<ou submission to the allotments 
of providence. Your Heavenly^ Father knoweth what 



Mails Ignorance Respecting his Future in this Life. 157 



are your wants and necessities, and what is best for your 
welfare ; and can and will make all things work together 
for good to those who in love entrust themselves to his 
care. Why then should you, in your blindness, vainly 
seek to assume the supreme disposal to your own hands, 
and refuse submission ? To trust in his care, to rest in 
his love, to feel quiet in the thought that he seeks in 
every lot he appoints us our best good, is itself a spirit- 
ual treasure of peace and joy, richer far than any worldly 
inheritance can give. Wh) r refuse submission ? Do you 
allow yourself, in your blindness, to feel dissatisfied with 
his allotment, and to think that you can manage better 
than he ? But that, is to set yourself at known variance 
with God, which is a greater evil than any earthly priva- 
tion. That is to fill your hearts with the spiritual evils 
of discontent, anxiety, covetousness, envy, hatred, — for 
which no earthly lot can compensate. 

3. Again ; let your ignorance of what is best for you 
in your earthly allotment, teach you to devote yourselves 
principally to the known duties of life. In pursuing the 
things of the world, we may justly feel doubtful whether 
we shall gain them, or whether, if gained, they- will prove 
salutary or hurtful. But on the path of known duty^ to 
God and man, what is there to mislead or betray? or who 
shall harm us, while following that which we know to be 
good? For the path of known duty is ever the path of 
safety 7 . Our chief business in this life then, is with our 
duties : not with our own pleasures, profits, or honors, 
These we may r well leave to the disposal of God, while 
we seek, first of all, to serve him in his kingdom and fol- 
low him in his righteousness. 

Our duties call us to the pursuit of noble and useful 
ends: to labor for the right, the good, the true, among 
men and before God. Whether we succeed or not to 
accomplish much in them for our God and our generation, 
we shall, at least, expand and cheer our own hearts with 
the sweet affections of charity, and carry along with us 
the approving testimony of God and our own conscience. 
On this course, if he cheer us with his earthly T gifts and 



158 Man's Ignorance Respecting his Future in this Life 



bounties, the) r will raise our hearts to him in thankful- 
ness ; if he withdraw our comforts, and smite us with 
earthly sorrows, we will take with patience the chastise- 
ment of his faithful love ! On this course, we enter into 
sweet fellowship with God in his kingdom and righteous- 
ness, and our hearts are linked to his in the bonds of unity 
and love unfailing. 

Finally, let your ignorance of good in this temporal 
life lead you while passing through it, to secure an eter- 
nal life with God in heaven. Amid the darkness and 
uncertainties of this temporal state, all is not dark. The 
way to secure an eternal life with God in heaven is made 
known and published. We have a sure word of proph- 
ecy from God himself, revealing to us the unfading glories 
of a heavenly state beyond this life. Jesus Christ has 
come,' with signs of power before eye-witnesses of his ma- 
jesty, and been accredited with a voice from heaven as 
the Beloved Son of the Father, — -bringing with him the 
promise of grace and eternal life to believers. 

Here then is a light shining upon us in our darkness ; 
a light from the heavenly world ; a light that marks out 
to us the way to reach its glories. The highway of life 
is the plain way of holiness. The wayfarer that travels 
it, however simple, need not err. The ransomed of the 
Lord, in every age, return upon it from all their wander- 
ings, and come with joy to the heavenly Zion. 

We do well therefore to look beyond the cares and 
anxieties of this uncertain life to an eternal life with God 
in heaven, and to seek for ourselves, in the forgiving and 
sanctifying grace which the Gospel offers, an inheritance 
in its pure and unfading happiness. Here, in the unfailing 
truth of God in the Gospel, we know our footing is sure. 
Here we build our happiness on the Rock of Ages. Here 
we enter into the knowledge and love of God and his 
Son Jesus Christ, whom to know and love is the very 
ingredient and principle of life eternal. The day of eter- 
nal joy already dawns within our hearts. The day-star 
of hope rises there, the harbinger of eternal rest. This 
is to make the true and proper use of the present life. 



Mali s Ignorance Respecting Jus Future in this Life. I 59 



This is to render our passage through its vanities and flit- 
ting shadows, a cheering pilgrimage to a better land. 
This opens before us at our journey's end the portals of 
heaven, and gives us an entrance and a welcome into the 
eternal house of our Father above. 

These lessons of practical wisdom I would set before 
you, — Beloved Pupils and Friends, — as my last and part- 
ing counsel. They are derived from that ignorance of 
good in your earthly lot which ever accompanies you in 
this life. 

They have been inculcated upon you by your past ex- 
perience. From infancy to this hour, as you have advan- 
ced along the pathway of life, you have been learning the 
incompetency of this world to form your satisfying por- 
tion of joy, and that, beyond the parents and kind friends 
around you, that have helped your progress, there is a 
God whose providence presides over this whole scene, 
and calls you to seek your happiness in his love and ser- 
vice. Have no mistakes, no sins, no sorrows, revealed to 
you your incompetence and danger? Have no deaths 
of once merry companions shown you your dependence? 
The Gospel, — has it not been a treasure at your side, to 
tell you of the love of God in Christ, and win you to his 
heart and care ? 

These precepts of wisdom are strongly inculcated upon 
you at this hour, as you stand on the threshold of this 
brief home of your preparatory studies, about to separate 
from your instructors and each other, it may be forever. 
You now look out on the untrod and unknown paths be- 
fore you. Shall your way through this busy life be pros- 
perous or adverse ? The darkness that lies over, and 
conceals from you your future lot, bids you be thoughtful 
and not rash ; to rely not on your own heart, but on the 
wisdom that cometh from above. 

The secret of a happy life is easily told : a sound mind 
and body ; earthly passions subdued ; reconciliation to 
God ; useful employment among men ; and hope, stretch- 
ing its cheering, animating vision onward to eternity. 



160 Man's Ignorance Respecting his Future in this' Life. 



This is the solution furnished by experience ; embodied 
in precepts of wisdom. 

Adopt them as your maxims of life. Go out from us, 
not to inflame your hearts with the ambition, the covet- 
ousness, the sensuality of the world. Go out, humbly 
and confidently entrusting the disposal of your lot to the 
decisions of an all-wise Creator. Go out, to serve God 
and your generation in some department of useful action. 
Go forth to seek, as pilgrims through this life, your richest 
treasures and joys with God and Christ in Heaven. 

Make these the guiding principles of your lives, and 
you will be truly wise — wise unto salvation. Without 
them, this life will indeed be vain. All its most splendid 
visions of happiness will be but illusions to sicken with 
disappointment, to lead onward to stranding on the rocks 
of sin and vice and death. Its hurried progress will be 
the shadowy cloud gathering to its bosom the elements 
of an eternal night of tempest and storm beyond this 
horizon of hope. 

With these words of counsel, I bid you, in my own 
behalf and that of my associates in office, — Farewell. 



NO CONTINUING CITY HERE. 



HEBREWS XIII: 14. 
Here have we no continuing city. 

The period was now approaching in which Jerusalem 
— the city of the Hebrews — the great metropolis built by 
their fathers, and ever their pride and joy, was, in accord- 
ance with the prediction of the Saviour, to be laid waste. 
They were to leave their possessions and homes, and flee, 
as the Saviour had directed them, into the mountains ; or, 
if they were inhabitants of other cities, were to sympa- 
thize with their brethren who should thus suffer. The 
apostle reminds them in these circumstances of trial, that 
they were not to consider any residence on earth as 
designed for permanence. They might grieve at the ruin 
of their beloved city ; but they ought not to be immode- 
rately attached to the place that had served as a home to 
them and their fathers, because no residence on earth was 
intended to be the permanent dwelling of men. No city 
on earth could they call ' a continuing city ' ; for they 
could dwell in none but a few years before they entered 
into eternity. 

The instruction of the apostle is as applicable to us, as 
it was originally to the afflicted Hebrews ; and we need 
as much reminding as did they — if not for consolation 
especially under expected trials, yet for a spiritual im- 
provement of our privileges — that we have upon earth no 
continuing city. This truth, at all times momentous, 
deserves peculiarly our consideration, at the season when 
we have just bidden adieu to another year of our lives, 
and are greeting a new one, with its uncertain prospects. 

22 



1 62 No Continuing City Here. 



Let us, then, enter with seriousness into the contempla- 
tion of the fact, that the zvorld is not our permanent dwell- 
ing. The certainty we feel respecting it is derived from 
the evidence we possess of our own approaching deaths, 
which will remove us out of the world, and the evidence 
we also have that our being will still continue after death 
for an eternity. From these sources we have been accus- 
tomed, from childhood, to consider the fact, whenever it 
has recurred to our minds, as certain beyond all question, 
that our dwelling on earth has no permanence compared 
with the eternity of our being. I shall say nothing, there- 
fore, to establish a fact of which we all feel a perfect 
moral certainty ; but shall take advantage of the mora, 
certainty we all feel about it, to speak — 

I. Respecting some means that are calculated constantly 
to remind us of the fact ; 

II. Respecting some evidences of our great blindness to 
the fact ; and, 

III. Respecting some practical results we should derive 
from the fact, that ' here we have no continuing city.' 

I. 1 am, first, to mention some means that are adapted 
constantly to remind us that we have no permanent abode 
on earth. 

We have such a means, then, in the fact that we have 
received our privileges from those zvho have already left the 
world. Almost all our privileges are associated thus with 
the mortality of others, who have been instrumental in 
conveying them over to our possession. Other men have 
labored here before us : we have entered into their labors. 
In the city of our residence, we are always walking amidst 
the monuments of preceding generations — the works of 
immortal beings, who, as strangers here before us, tarried 
but for a day. The houses we inhabit, the streets we 
walk, the sanctuaries we frequent, the Scriptures of truth, 
all bespeak to us the agency of other beings who have 
been on earth before us ; who took up in it no settled 
abode ; who quickly passed through it to eternity. All 
our privileges are thus put into our hands, with the loud 
language of the dead to us for monition, that we do not 



No Continuing City Here. 163 



take them into permanent possession. Everywhere, then, 
in the city of our residence on earth, are such mementos, 
to remind us constantly how short is to be our dwelling 
here. 

We have such a memento, again, in the fact that others, 
who have been sharing with us in our privileges, are constantly 
leaving the world. They who dwell with us in the city of 
our residence on earth — beings of immortality — are con- 
stantly bidding us adieu, and entering into eternity. All 
our privileges thus become associated with the memory 
of former companions, who once had their abode below. 
They dwelt with us but a few days ; they scarcely made 
themselves known to us, when they gave the farewell 
look, pressed the parting hand, bade adieu, and entered 
on an abode in eternity — the tolling bell, the mournful 
procession, the grave of their relics, the erected monu- 
ment, signalized their departure ; — and now all around the 
city of our abode are the traces of their former presence, 
reminding us of our having no continuing residence here. 
We look back at the days they passed with us before they 
entered into eternity, and they appear to us but an hand- 
breadth ; and, from their dwelling in eternity, we seem to 
hear them say, as we miss them from the scenes in which 
they once mingled with us, that these are scenes where 
pilgrims to eternity tarry but a day. When in the habi- 
tations where they once dwelt with us, or the streets 
where they walked with us, or the sanctuary to which 
they went with us in company, or at the mercy seat 
where they once bent with us the knee of devotion, or by 
the Scriptures before which they once listened with us to 
the words of Jesus Christ, we look for them ; but they are 
gone ; — the place they once occupied at our side is vacant ; 
— they are far from us in their eternal dwelling ; and the 
places where we once knew them are now so man)- 
mementos, that here we ourselves have no continuing 
city . 

We have another constant memento of this fact, in the 
advancement we are constantly making ourselves towards 
eternity. Everything in the city of our residence on earth 



164 ffio Continuing City Here. 



reminds us that we are never stationary in it, but are 
always advancing towards the period of our final depar- 
ture. We have entered into a scene of divine wonders, 
but we cannot delay to spend our existence here in gaz- 
ing" upon them : we are constantly in motion, urging our 
way through them to an eternal dwelling. Each break- 
ing morn, each radiant noon, each shadowy eve, as they 
pass by us, make no tarrying, but pass us never more to 
return. The jocund spring, summer with his swarms of 
life, autumn with her golden harvests, winter with his icy 
sceptre and his snowy robes, as each year they pass us, 
are in constant motion ; and while we greet them, take 
their leave of us forever. Each changing scene of life 
arrests our minds— enlists our feelings; then takes its final 
leave of us, the sons of eternity. Creeping infancy, 
merry* boyhood, aspiring youth, industrious manhood, 
decrepit age, we meet in swift succession ; just greet ; and 
bid adieu for eternity. In the midst of all the privileges 
of the city of our residence below, do our advancing 
steps towards the eternal world serve constantly to re- 
mind us that here we have no permanent dwelling. The 
aggregate of days that have passed by us, the yearly sea- 
sons, the scenes of life and periods of age, since we came 
into possession of our privileges — since we first knew our 
dwellings, and walked our streets, and visited our sanc- 
tuaries, and heard the words of God — are so many 
advances towards eternity ; and tell, as they thicken on 
the path we leave, how soon we reach the close of our 
pilgrimage and enter upon unknown worlds. 

We have another constant memento of the fact, again, 
in our inability of prolonging our continuance in the world. 

We have constant notices around us of our frailty, and 
inability to continue to ourselves our present privileges 
for the future. Ever, in the city of our privileges below, 
do we see ourselves hurried on by an unseen hand we 
cannot control ; the Almighty Guide who conducts us 
seems unwilling that we should stay ; the God of our 
spirits who goes with us designs we should have our set- 
tled dwelling in eternity ; and soon he will bring us to 



No Continuing City Here. 165 



the gates of the city, and at the bidding - we cannot resist 
must we take our leave of it for eternity. Around us, 
everything is betokening his design of our departure, and 
our inability to prolong our stay. The frail hold we take 
of every earthly possession tells us that our grasp on none 
is for eternity. We are hurried on from object to object, 
before we can call anything ours. We meet friends ; but 
while we cling to them, the unseen hand of providence 
tears us away from their embrace. Beauty we would 
linger here to admire ; but, while we look, the grace of the 
fashion of it perisheth. Power just takes us by the hand ; 
and bids us adieu to greet a successor. Fame crowns us 
with her wreath ; but, while we feel the rising flush of joy, 
she plucks it off to sport with others. Wealth comes to 
feast us and roll us in his car of pleasures ; and while 
accepting his proposals, he dismisses us to tempt some 
other pilgrims on their way to eternity. The unseen hand 
of providence thus tears us away from object after object, 
to show that here is not our rest, and that our hold on 
earth is frail and giving way. Around the city of our 
habitation too, are the messengers he sends to warn us of 
our approaching departure. Decay stands, with tottering 
limbs and feeble breath ; and lisps to us, with dying life, 
that we draw nigh the gate of our habitation, and soon 
will leave it for eternal worlds. Diseases — busy messen- 
gers — fly here and there to tell us of our frail abode, and 
whisper in our ears ' eternity.' Death, armed with resist- 
less power, stands with his commissions and their un- 
known dates, to lead us out of our residence below, and 
bar on us its gates forever. Everywhere in the city of 
our abode are we reminded thus, that we have not the 
power to prolong our stay in it, and that soon we shall 
leave its privileges, its dwellings, its streets, its sanc- 
tuaries, its Scriptures, its busy throng, for eternity. ' Here 
have we no continuing city.' 

There is another means reminding us constantly of this 
fact, the voice of God the Saviour. In the city of our habi- 
tation below, God has published his glories, his statutes, 
his offers of pardon and assistance, for our use as sojourn- 



1 66 No Continuing City Here. 



ers here who are passing to eternity. He, the infinite 
Being who is from everlasting to everlasting himself, has 
conferred on us an existence that is to continue and grow 
up by the side of his through everlasting ages. He has 
beheld us, in the first stages of our being here, engaged in 
unrighteous rebellion against his authority, and bent on 
neglect of its glories ; and, moved with pity, has sent his 
everlasting Son to atone for our guilt and call us to 
repentance, and his Holy Spirit to indite his will and 
influence us to obedience. In our habitation, we have his 
word ; here temples are erected for his service; a day is 
appointed by him for men to assemble ; ministers are com- 
missioned to teach ; and they who love his name speak 
to one another and to their fellow-men of his designs. 
Wherever we go then, the voice of God the Saviour is 
reaching us, and re-echoing the truth that we are beings 
w^hose final dwelling is eternity, and who have here no con- 
tinuing city. The Bible, whenever it meets our eye, reit- 
erates the voice of God, that we must die and rise again in 
other worlds. In each reproof of conscience, his awful 
voice is heard to speak a reckoning day in eternity. In 
each act we do for God or for his kingdom here, his voice 
of love whispers of eternal joys. Each revolving Sabbath, 
with its pealing bells and open sanctuaries and solemn 
rites, bears on its hours his voice, that warns of an abode 
in heaven or hell. Each sermon is the call he makes to 
hear his voice to-day. In each season of prayer, we hear 
him say that we have not reached our home — that we are 
pilgrims here. From the throne of glory on which he 
will sit in judgment, and assign us our dwellings in eter- 
nity, God the Saviour now sends down the voice of 
monition ; and, while it rolls around the world we dwell 
in, ten thousand messengers echo back the voice to our 
ears : that * here we have no continuing city.' 

II. But there are evidences that, in respect to a fact so 
momentous, and of which we are constantly reminded 
from so many quarters, there is in us great blindness. 

One evidence of this is, that we think so little of our 
departure. There is a train of thoughts in which our 



No Continuing City Here. 167 



minds are constantly busy, and over which we have a 
guiding control. When we look back on this past em- 
ployment of our minds, and see the vast train of our 
secret thoughts, where are those we have had respecting 
the brevity of our continuance on earth, and our 
approaching departure into eternity ? Do they rise up 
to our memories in that thick array, which testifies that 
we have lived sufficiently mindful of so important a 
reality ? Do they not rather appear in such momentary 
glances of thought, and at such distant intervals from each 
other, as to evince our blindness ? Do the secret thoughts 
of our departure occupy such prominence in the train, as 
do the thoughts of those worldly trifles that meet us in 
the city of our habitation ? And has not this been great 
blindness in us ; when the monuments of past generations, 
the departure of surrounding companions, our progress, 
our frailty, yonder throne of God the Saviour, have been 
constantly visible, to excite in us the thoughts of eternity ? 
Another evidence of our great blindness to the fact is, 
that zve speak so little of our departure into eternity. We 
have been conversant with our fellow-men who have lived 
with us in the city of our habitation. We have met them 
in our streets and in our dwellings, and many have been 
the words we have spoken with them that have been 
lodged in their memories. When we look back on the 
words we have spoken, where have been the allusions we 
have made to our and their departure into eternity, or 
where the direct mention ? We have alluded to many 
subjects, we have directly mentioned many, in their hear- 
ing ; and their memories can testify of us, whether, when 
walking or sitting with them, amidst the loud monitors of 
an eternity, we have given that prominence in our words, 
that we ought, to the hastening change in our habitation, 
or whether we have appeared blind to a change so 
momentous ? Their memories may testify to our words 
of affection on many subjects — (oh ! that they might not to 
words of deceit ! to words of anger !) — but must they not, 
when they see the dearth of our allusions and mentions 



1 68 No Continuing City Here. 



about an hereafter, testify, in their consciences and in 
eternity, that great was our blindness? 

Another evidence of our great blindness to the fact is, 
that we do so little respecting our approaching departure 
into eternity. There is much to be done in the city of 
our habitation here, before we leave it for eternity. 
Duties to ourselves, duties to our fellow-men, and duties 
to our God, claim of us a discharge while passing through 
our abode below. Acts of penitence, acts of faith, acts 
of obedience, are to be done by us in our persons ; acts of 
charity to the souls of our neighbors ; acts of respect to 
God ;■ — before we are prepared to enter with comfort on 
eternity. What, then, have we done for our departure 
into eternity ? Does the remembrance of the acts we 
have done while dwelling in our habitation below— a 
habitation crowded with mementos of eternity — testify 
that we have done what we ought to prepare for our 
exchange of dwellings ? Or that we have been exceed- 
ingly blind to a change so great ? Alas, we can testify to 
many acts that unfit us for departing ! Can we to any that 
prepare ? Or, if we have turned our eye to a better 
abode, and done anything to prepare ourselves for it, 
have not our acts of preparation been feeble and sparse, 
and proved exceeding blindness in us to eternity ? 

Another evidence of the fact is, that we feel so little 
about departing from our present abode into eternity. 
We may have thought and spoken and acted, in the city 
of our habitation here, to some poor extent, with refer- 
ence to an approaching eternity ; but what has been the 
measure of feeling we have allowed ourselves to indulge 
on a subject so momentous? We have had intense feel- 
ings to expend on other subjects. The vanities, the pleas- 
ures, the vexations of our present abode, may have 
stirred all our souls within us to energy of feeling. Have 
we, while ten thousand voices have been proclaiming 
around us ' eternity ! ' allowed ourselves to feel as in- 
tensely as we ought on a reality so weighty ? Or must 
not the past train of our feelings witness for us, that great 
has been our blindness? That while love has admitted the 



No Continuing City Here. 169 



claims of other objects, it has here been cold ; that while 
zeal has been active for other purposes, it has here grown 
weary ; that while desire has been intense for other ends, 
it has here been wavering ? 

When we look, then, at what we have thought, what 
we have spoken, what we have done, what we have felt, 
in the city of our habitation below, amidst the constant 
monitions of an hereafter, we may see evidence that we 
have been almost as blind to eternity, as though we were 
to have here our permanent dwelling. Impenitent sin- 
ners have closed their eyes, that they will not see ; and 
the followers of our Lord Jesus Christ have been either 
sleeping, or, in wakeful moments, but seeing through a 
glass darkly. 

III. But the fact, of which we have so many monitions, 
and respecting which we have manifested such blindness, 
that ' here we have no continuing city,' nevertheless 
claims of us a practical attention ; and the practical results 
we should derive from it, I will endeavour to illustrate in 
my closing remarks. 

The fact then should influence us to adopt a settled 
rule of duty. 

What is the object of our existence here and in eter- 
nity ? What are the means of securing it ? Have we 
any rule of safety for our guidance ? Have we, in the 
gospel, the words of God ? Shall we take it as our guide 
and our hope in the house of our pilgrimage? Or shall 
we reject it, and follow our own devices? 

This practical question the brevity of our abode below 
demands that we should firmly settle — rand adopt, if 
worthy of it, the gospel as our settled rule, or prove it 
vain, and take some other rule. We have no time to 
waste in doubts. We must not squander time in hesita- 
tion? We stand by the very gates of eternity. The 
gospel, that now tenders to us its guidance in the steps of 
this pilgrimage, we shall soon leave, with the city of our 
habitation, and have a whole eternity to employ in look- 
ing back upon our conduct here. If the Bible contain 
the words of God, we shall pass by his throne on our way 

23 



170 ' No Continuing City Here. 



to our eternal dwelling ; and these words, which Jesus 
gave us, shall judge us in that day of meeting God. If 
our Lord Jesus Christ has, ' by his divine power, given us' 
in this book, 'all things which pertain to life and godli- 
ness,' then the}' who take not this gospel to sway their 
opinions and conduct here will be found, in that day, 
' without the faith that pleases God,' guilty of ' treading 
under foot the blood of the Son of God,' and will receive 
condemnation, and ' go away into everlasting punish- 
ments ' : and they who do make it their influential rule 
will, in that day, ' cleansed from sin through sprinkling of 
the blood of Jesus,' 'unblamable in love through sanctifi- 
cation of the Spirit,' receive the approving welcome of 
God, and ' enter into life eternal.' 

Again ; the fact should influence us to moderation in the 
use we make of the present world. Our worldly enjoyments 
are designed only as accommodations for us on our way 
to eternity. The city of our habitation is furnished with 
them by God the Saviour, to sustain and cheer us in his 
service, while distant from his habitation. We are sur- 
rounded on every hand, even now while we are partaking 
of these joys, with the monitions of eternity ; and soon 
shall we leave our abode below to part with them forever. 
How little ought we to make of its enjoyments, who are 
so soon to leave them for eternity ! Why attach ourselves 
immoderately to a habitation, erected to lodge us on our 
way to eternity ? Why draw away our hearts from our 
final dwelling? Why labor to strengthen ties so soon to 
be burst asunder? We are but increasing for ourselves 
the pangs of the parting struggle. We shall but bid 
adieu to our habitation with greater regret. While ab- 
sorbed in time, we shall be but neglecting eternity. Eter- 
nity ! how should it swallow up the comparatively trifling 
concerns of time, and make them all as nothing ! " This 
I say, brethren, the time is short : it remaineth that both 
they that have wives be as though they had none ; and 
they that weep, as though they wept not; and they that 
rejoice, as though they rejoiced not ; and they that buy, 
as though they possessed not ; and they that use this 



No Continuing City Here. 171 



world as not abusing it : for the fashion of this world 
passeth away." 

Again ; the brevity of our abode below should influence 
us to improve our passing privileges and opportunities. In 
the city of our residence in this world are we favored by 
God the Saviour with many privileges in regard to his 
service, and many opportunities of doing good to fellow- 
citizens who are advancing with us to eternity. These 
seasons of doing service for God are rapidly rolling over 
us ; and soon, in our hasty advance to eternity, shall we 
pass by them all, and leave the city of our privileges for- 
ever. Each season, as it meets us in our progress, invites 
us to the glorious work of God, then bids us farewell, and 
bears to eternity the report of what we do and how we 
serve our King. Soon, on the shores of eternity, shall we 
look back on these privileges that met us, when with fel- 
low-pilgrims here we urged our onward way, and date, 
from these years below, the era of our eternal joys or our 
unending woes. There, through the progress of eternal 
years, shall the privileges we are passing now be seen 
attesting those works whose influence follows us, in songs 
we raise with fellow heirs of glory, or curses mingled by 
us with angry spirits of despair. Now is our time, as 
privileges are passing by us, to escape the woes of hell, 
and fill eternity with joys. Each opportunity we pass 
will tell of eternal losses, or eternal gains. While then 
we greet each passing season privileged with grace, how 
watchful should we be to seize and use it for our God ! 
With what fear of misimprovement and its woes, pass 
every day of our sojourning here ! How ardent in our 
love to God and man ! How constant to urge our bright 
and burning way, and to spread the savor of our love 
around us on fellow pilgrims to eternity ! 

Again ; the fact that 'here we have no continuing city,' 
should influence us to maintain a constant readiness for our 
departure into eternity. 

Soon the period will come, when we shall exchange our 
abode ; and bidding adieu to the beings, the scenes and 
the privileges of the city, where we spent the first years 



172 No Continuing City Here. 



of our existence, pass through the gates of death, and 
enter the eternal abode assigned us by our God. We 
have before us this season of solemnities in exchanging 
worlds. 

That awful day will surely come ; 
The appointed hour makes haste ; 
When I must stand before my Judge, 
And pass the solemn test. 

Oh ! to be able, in the day of our departure, to know 
that we have believed in a Saviour who has prepared 
mansions for us above ; to have our souls filled with love 
to his glories and joys in his kingdom; to look, with the 
even serenity of trust, alike on a retiring world and on an 
opening eternity ; to leave a sw T eet savor of our godliness 
on friends below, as the joys of eternity break on our 
souls , to be able to pass the solemnities of exchanging 
worlds in such a state of preparation, — brethren, is it not 
worth maintaining a constant readiness during our abode 
below ! What anguish will wring the hearts of those 
who come to these solemnities, without having confided 
with devotedness in a Saviour ; when, torn from their 
portion below, they enter on endless waitings ! What 
terrors will distract those who, having believed in a Sav- 
iour, are so surprised, in that state of worldliness and 
unwatchfulness, as to cling with desire to their present 
abode, and recoil with horror from the clouds of uncer- 
tainty that veil eternity ! Think, fellow-strangers here, of 
this approaching season of solemnities ! While loud mo- 
nitions tell you of the scene, awake from your lethargy, 
and prepare ! ' Take heed to yourselves lest at any time 
your hearts be overcharged with surfeiting and cares of 
this life, and so that day overtake you unawares.' ' Stand 
with your loins girded about, and your lights burning, 
like unto men that wait for their lord.' 'Be sober:' 
' watch :' ' pray ' ' always; that ye may be accounted wor- 
thy to escape all these things which shall come to pass, 
and to stand before the Son of Man.' 

Fellow travellers to eternity ! we have passed another 
year of our residence in the world below. As we have 



No Continuing' City Here. 173 



just bidden it adieu, and have closed up its concerns for 
the judgment and eternity, let us survey the paths in 
which we have been walking- ; and see whether we have 
been living for time or for eternity. Whither have been 
tending our thoughts, our words, our conduct, our hearts? 
At every step through the revolving year, God followed 
us with kind monitions of an hereafter. The ashes of the 
dead we trod, the monuments we saw of sleeping ances- 
tors, these scenes where others lived, once busied here, 
now mouldered into dust, have whispered, as we passed 
along, 'eternity.' Companions too, flushed with health 
and life as we, when we stood together on the threshold 
of the year and hailed it with bright wishes, have passed 
beyond the vale and left their warnings. We saw them 
leave us ; and as we looked around to scenes where once 
with us they mingled souls, the vacant place said for them 
' eternity.' Our advancing life, and our frail tenements 
that scarcely held us here, have given us monitions. God 
the Saviour has passed us with his word, with his days of 
grace, with the triumphs of his redeeming love. 

Have we lived for time? Or have we for eternity? 
Put the question home. The year is past. We cannot 
now recall its hours. Its records now are writ in heaven. 
When the archangel, 

with his golden wing, 
Sweeps stars and suns aside, 

preparing the Son of God his way, the unrolled records 
of this year shall tell. When ages after ages roll away, 
high in the realms of bliss, or deep in the prison of des- 
pair, will you look back on years below, and date this 
year, celestial joys, or woes unending. Convert of Christ, 
who dost date this year the era of thy heavenly hopes, 
praise God that gave thee such a year of grace, and feel 
constraining love to yield him the willing sacrifice of life ? 
Wavering follower of Christ, weep thy mis-spent hours, 
and pray the grace that blots such records out, and helps 
to spend remaining days for God ! Christless sinner, see 
your path of death ; awake, and live ! 



A CONTINUING CITY TO COME. 



HEBREWS XIII: 14. 
Here we have no continuing city ; but we seek one to come. 

The Apostle, in the text, reminds his believing breth- 
ren of that better city, — the heavenly Jerusalem, in which 
they had laid up their hopes, and which, while on earth, 
they as pilgrims were seeking. Though their earthly city 
was not to continue, — though they were soon to see their 
hardened yet beloved Jerusalem laid waste, their kindred 
suffering, and themselves turned desolate upon the world, 
they were seeking a city to come, and soon would enter 
it, which would continue ; where no hardening iniquity 
should ever defile, no curse of God descend, no enemy 
lay waste, no sufferings enter : a city of unsullied love, 
immovable security, unending joys. Patient then might 
they well be in enduring the will of God awhile, who 
were expectants of so great and precious promises. 

The apostle thus reminds all believers that, amid the 
instability of earthly things, they are to find their consola- 
tion in earnestly seeking that enduring city which God 
has prepared for the righteous in eternity. 

Let us, then, for our spiritual benefit, direct our medi- 
tations to that continuing city to come ; and inquire, 

I. What are the sources of its joys? 

II. Who are seeking it ? and, 

III. What are the evidences that the}^ who do, will 
obtain admission ? 

1. What then are the sources of joy pertaining to this 
city of God in eternity ? I answer, 

First, the inhabitants consist of countless numbers of intel- 
ligent beings, various in their orders and ages and origin. 



176 A Continuing City to Conic. 



There is Jehovah, the greatest of intelligent beings, 
whose mysterious existence is forever exalted beyond the 
increasing researches of the highest creature, whose attri- 
butes know no limitation ; whose age is from eternity ; 
who has ever been present in all places of the universe; 
who reigns as the king, and shines as the light, of the 
celestial city forever more. And he describes himself as 
" dwelling among them," a fellow inhabitant ! There 
also are the angels, whose number is " ten thousand 
times ten thousand and thousands of thousands." They 
are more in number than we are able to form an ade- 
quate idea of in the present state ; being described by an 
apostle as " an innumerable company." From the des- 
cription given of them in the word of God, of their 
different orders and names and stations, it would seem 
probable that they are of different orders in their mental 
powers and attainments — some of them the most exalted 
in intelligence of created beings — and that they had their 
origin in different parts of the universe, and were trained 
up under different systems of providence, before they 
were collected " together in one in heavenly places." 
Their age goes far back, it is probable, of the date of the 
creation described by Moses ; for Satan, once a com- 
panion of theirs, had already passed through his trial and 
fallen, when, in the early age of this world, he tempted 
our first parents ; and Job, it has been supposed, describes 
angels, when speaking of the morning stars and sons of 
God as rejoicing over the creation of this system. There 
are also to be among the inhabitants of that celestial city 
— as it will ultimately be constituted — a multitude which 
no man can number of men from this world, collected 
from different ages and different parts of the world — from 
the east, the west, the north, the south — who constitute 
the redeemed of the Lord, rescued from sin, and trained 
up under a peculiar system of providence to prepare 
them for that city. Thus numerous and thus various in 
their orders, their ages, their origin, are the intelligent 
beings who reside in the city of God ! 



A Continuing City to Conic. 177 



I remark again : all the inhabitants there are actuated 
by holy love. Jehovah, who has there fixed his everlasting 
throne, beams forth on the whole society the light of 
that intense love that awoke its various beings into 
existence, that followed them with his supporting hand 
and guiding care in the various places where they spent 
the first stages of their being. His is the love that col- 
lected them into one harmonious and happy society, to 
live under his smiles forever : the holy love, that adorns 
him with truth and justice and goodness and grace ; that 
preserved'angels in holiness; that sent forth his Son and 
Spirit to the lost world to save the redeemed ; and that 
guides them, by his government in the celestial city, to 
waters of life and trees of life forever. All the innumer- 
able hosts of created beings too in that city, are actuated 
by holy love. This is the character of angels that never 
fell, that were trained up in swift obedience to the will of 
God, that exercise their benevolence in deeds of min- 
istry to heirs of salvation. This is the character of 
redeemed men, who turned from their rebellions to the 
service of God, and imitated their Saviour in doing good 
to their fellow-men while on earth, and who were estab- 
lished unblamable in love on their admission to the city. 
These perfectly benevolent beings there spend, in one 
harmonious society, the days of their immortal existence. 

Again ; the deeds hi which they are employed i7i that city are 
suited to gratify their benevolence. In a society of intelli- 
gent beings who are completely perfect in love, there is 
nothing to hinder any one from engaging in conduct 
which he most loves. Though we know not all the 
peculiar employments of the inhabitants of the heavenly 
city, and probably could not know while surrounded 
with this clothing of flesh and blood, yet doubtless such a 
society gives scope to all the benevolent employment that 
is desirable to all the inhabitants. There Jehovah, — God 
and 'the Lamb, — is forever engaged in supporting, and 
reigning over, the society, guiding each and all in their 
employments and joys, leading them to fountains of living 
waters, and wiping away all tears forever : and he looks 

24 ' 



178 A Continuing City to Conic. 



with complacence on the everlasting fruits of his deeds of 
kindness, pronouncing them very good; and his deeds in 
the society are suited to gratify his own heart of infinite 
love. 

There the innumerable company of angels and the 
redeemed see, in each other, persons to whom they can 
show forth kindness, and in whose holiness they can take 
a complacent esteem, and in doing them good and par- 
ticipating in their society can find employments suited to 
gratify their benevolent hearts. Thus may a Paul find 
his converts to be his crown and his joy above. There 
too may they engage in various ways in doing the will 
of God, in contemplating his perfections as they are 
developing in his providence, and in studying the end- 
less variety of his works. There too may they unite 
in solemn acts of adoration and praise, as when the Sera- 
phim vail their faces and cry, " Holy, holy, is the Lord 
God of Sabbaoth " ; or as when the elders "fall down 
before the Lamb, having harps and golden vials full of 
odors', and sing, Thou wast slain and hast redeemed us to 
God by thy blood " ; or as when the multitude of the 
redeemed, " clothed with white robes and palms in their 
hands, cry, with loud voice, Salvation to our God which 
sitteth upon the throne and unto the Lamb"; or as 
when the whole multitude of the numberless inhabitants 
of the city throughout its remotest bounds swell with one 
voice the chorus of praise, " Blessing and honor and glory 
and power be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and 
unto the Lamb forever and ever." There in that everlast- 
ing city the innumerable inhabitants engage thus in un- 
ceasing employments of benevolence and piety, employ- 
ments that are suited to their high capacities of intelli- 
gence and their complete perfection in holiness. 

Again ; the inhabitants are secure in these joys for 
eternity. The city has immovable foundations, for its 
builder and maker is God. He who liveth forever has 
encircled it with walls of everlasting strength. He has 
fixed his throne in it, to reign there forever and ever. 
He has peopled it with perfectly holy inhabitants, 



A Continuing City to Come. 179 



gathered from the whole universe, to set forth his eternal 
glories. Strong is his almighty arm to uphold and 
defend, to guide and bless; and he will employ it for the 
eternal welfare of his people. Unreached by death, unsul- 
lied by sin, undisturbed by enemies, unapproached by suf- 
ferings, — the countless multitude of its inhabitants, with 
increasing energies of mind and intensity of holy affec- 
tion, continue the ceaseless round of their happy services 
forever and ever. No change awaits them more. They 
are now in their final home ; in an everlasting dwelling ; 
in a continuing city ; an immovable kingdom. 

II. But this city of endless habitation is to be sought 
during our present residence on earth, if we would obtain 
admission. Let us then inquire who are seeking it as their 
final home. 

1. They who truly seek it are those who are submitting 
themselves in faith to the word of God. The)- are called to 
the new enterprise of seeking the kingdom and glory of 
God, by his word and Spirit. For it is God, by his word 
in Christ, who sets before us that eternal dwelling, and 
points to us the only way to reach its gates and have an 
entrance ministered to us into its everlasting joys. The 
vail that separates that world from us precludes vision : 
and they who are earnestly seeking it, confide themselves 
wholly to the word of God as the directory of their steps. 
They hear this, as it comes from the realms of eternity ; 
and they start up at its call, to follow implicitly and un- 
reservedly their guiding God. They are solicited indeed 
in their earthly pilgrimage by many guides, by many 
tempters, by many foes ; but they hear the voice of God, 
and they confide all their happiness to that ; and they say 
to every solicitation that would draw them aside from 
their purpose, ' Behind me ; thou savorest not the things 
that be of God.' They yield to that word their opinions, 
and that is their faith ; they yield to it their feelings, and 
that is their faith ; they yield to it their lives, and that is 
their faith ; they build on it their hopes, and that is their 
faith ; and confiding solely in its guidance, as did Abra- 



180 A Continuing City to Come. 



ham when leaving his kindred at its call, they are seeking 
that blest " city which hath foundations." 

Again ; they who seek that enduring city are obedient 
to the will of God during their present life. They continue 
to advance towards that heavenly abode, by holding on 
steadfastly to their confidence in the word of God, and 
following his will in the ways of obedience. In the 
strength of their confidence, they cheerfully engage in 
the services and patiently submit to the trials, which 
attend them on their way. The King of that heavenly 
city has filled it with hoi)' inhabitants, who delight in 
exercising that benevolent love which is inculcated in his 
law. He designs to admit no being into it that will ever 
defile its society with sin — none but those who will 
adhere to obedience forever. He has therefore wisely 
appointed that men, coming as they do from a world of 
rebellion and rescued from a state of sin, should have 
time for the trial of their obedience — time for crucifying 
the flesh with its lusts, and strengthening their devoted- 
ness — time for washing their robes and making them 
white — before they enter that abode of perfect holiness. 
They therefore who are earnestly seeking it, follow the 
guidance of the Saviour in doing his will on earth. Here 
on their way they obey his statutes of benevolence ; and, 
while actively employed in doing good to men and serv- 
ing God, and passing, with submission, through scenes of 
trial— while strewing their pathway with the fruits of 
benevolence and piety — are exterminating sin from their 
hearts, and strengthening that holy love which shall glow 
eternally in the city of God. Under the present trial of 
their obedience, they cast not away their confidence ; they 
draw not back to perdition ; but they confide through 
tribulation, patiently doing the will of God, intent on 
receiving the promise, earnest on attaining the end of 
their faith, the purity and eternal salvation of their 
souls. 

Again ; they who seek that endless city subordinate to 
its attainment the present world. They place dependence 
on the promise of God in his word, more than they do on 



A Continuing City to Come. 1 8 1 



the present world, for their happiness ; and the world of 
his promise is far more desirable to them than the world 
of their trial. The city of their present habitation they 
regard with the feelings of strangers, who are going to 
reside for ever in a far better country. Like strangers, 
they abstain from those strongly ascendant attachments 
which would make them forget the abode they are seek- 
ing. They see in the scenery of this world, in its society, 
in its comforts, in its attainments, in its worship, in its 
partial manifestations of divine glory, much indeed that 
they love ; but they hope, while trusting in the guidance 
of God, to reach a habitation that is not momentary, like 
the present, but endless ; where exists a richer scenery, a 
better society, more solid joys, knowledge more elevated, 
employments and worship more satisfying and sublime — 
where the glory of God shines forth in the splendors of 
everlasting day. Confiding in the word of their guiding 
God, their desire after the world of promise is thus ascen- 
dant. They feel not here at home ; not receiving here 
the promises they are seeking; but seeing them afar off, 
and being persuaded of them and embracing them, they 
confess that they are strangers and pilgrims upon the 
earth. Truly, if they were most mindful of their present 
abode, they have the opportunity of being wholly devoted 
to its joys ; but, by subordinating the present world to 
their faith in Christ and their desire to attain the prom- 
ises, it is manifest that they are seeking a better coun- 
try. God is not ashamed to be called the God of such ; 
for he hath prepared for them a city. 

III. Let us in the third place inquire into the evidences 
that they who thus seek the city of God will obtain admission. 

One such evidence exists in the direct promises of God. 
He has made plain promises, to accompany his calls of 
authority, to those who in obedience to his calls come out 
from the sins of this world, and are separate by devotion 
to his service ? He has engaged to be a father and to 
adopt them as his sons and daughters, and admit them to 
dwell in his celestial family in heaven. A single promise 
of God cannot be broken ; but he has repeated his prom- 



1 82 A Continuing City to Conic. 



ise. A simple declaration is enough ; but he has added 
to declarations the solemn formality of taking, on the 
throne of his heavenly habitation, "an oath for confirma- 
tion." Now they who in this world are confiding in his 
guidance, obedient to his will, and desirous of a heavenly 
country, are the very persons to whom God has applied 
his promises, and how strong consolation have they ! 
The word and oath of an omnipotent God! When they 
enter eternity, therefore, the heirs of such promises, He 
will fulfill the word in which he has caused their souls to 
hope, his omniscient eye and almighty arm will see that 
none of them are lost, that all have admission through 
the gates into the city. 

Again ; such evidence is seen in the mission to our world 
of the Lord Jesus CJirist and of the Holy Spirit. He has 
not merely caused his voice of authority and of promise 
to be heard in our world, but from the throne of his resi- 
dence has he sent, to visit us in our condemnation, his 
beloved Son to make atonement for our sins, by dying 
and rising again for our justification. He has beheld us 
in the strength of our rebellion and the temptations of 
our abode, and sent also his Holy Spirit to rescue sinners 
and help believers on their way to his heavenly habita- 
tion. Now they who truly seek the glories of his kingdom, 
are the very persons to whom that cross on which Christ 
died becomes an effectual propitiation, in the application 
of his blood to wash them from their sins ; and to whom 
his resurrection from the dead becomes a lively hope of 
immortality. They are the very persons whom the Spirit 
is attending with his effectual influence ; to keep in the 
way of holiness, and to preserve in it to the day of God, 
and to present before him unblamable in love. When they 
enter eternity then, is there uncertainty respecting their 
final abode? Will not he, who has given his Son to die 
for them and his Spirit to guide them, " freely give them 
all things?" Will he, who has led them with the hand of 
infinite kindness up in all their way to the very border of 
his heavenly city, now bar on them its gates and refuse 
them entrance ? 



A Continuing City to Conic. 183 



Again ; another evidence God has given us, in the 
assurance that lie has already admitted the faithful from 
earth into that city. He has not only given us his promise, 
and permitted us to see him using his agency in the pres- 
ent world for redemption, but has assured us of the fact 
that, he has already admitted into his presence all those 
persons who have left the world in faith. The vail of the 
invisible world has he lifted up and permitted us to cast 
a glance on its holy inhabitants. There in that distant 
high abode we see, among the spotless multitudes before 
his throne, all those who, having followed with faith his 
guidance below till their last conflict with death, came 
out of their great tribulation with their robes washed and 
made white in the blood of the Lamb, having obtained 
the eternal victory. There now before his throne are all 
the spirits of those just men, who confided themselves to 
the guidance of his word when on earth, and who in the con- 
summation of obedience and joy are made forever perfect ; 
all they who in faith passed the time of their sojourning 
here in preceding generations ; and all our dear com- 
panions whom Ave once knew and loved, and with tears 
bade adieu, as in faith they closed their eyes on us and 
on these present scenes. And with all this cloud of wit- 
nesses already admitted into the heavenly city attest- 
ing the faithfulness of God, may we not believe undoubt- 
ingly that, by following our God with faith unto the gate 
of death, we shall not fail of entering into his holy habita- 
tion, but shall have " an entrance ministered to us abun- 
dantly " by willing angels, willing saints, and by willing 
companions, " into the everlasting kingdom of God our 
Saviour ? " 

The view which we have now taken of the city of God 
in eternity, in regard to its constituent joys, the persons on 
earth who are truly seeking it, and the certainty of their 
admission, may serve to enforce on our minds some useful 
reflections. 

We learn from our subject the value of the word of 
God. Blest volume from the Father of Mercies ! — This 
light, that unfolds to view a celestial city, shines on our 



184 A Continuing City to Come. 



path, and shows the promises, the arm of power, the ac- 
complished deeds of grace, that encourage guilty men to 
enter on the way to heaven, and persevere with hope till 
they receive the full fruition of their faith. Well may 
they who seek a heavenly country make these statutes of 
the Lord their song in the house of their pilgrimage. 
Here we behold his promises of life in Christ, sealed by 
miracles of the Holy Ghost and by the resurrection of 
Christ from the dead and ascension to immortality as the 
first fruits of them that sleep ; and to that word which 
begot our hope we cling as the charter of our immor- 
tality. 

Again, we may find in our subject a source of support 
under the trials we are called to endure in this world. 
Trials here will come. They are not joyous while they 
pass, v but grievous. Yet they who trust in the guiding 
word of God, and follow his will in faith, see ground, in 
their final and better home, to endure with patience all 
these sorrows of the way. .The storms that blow upon 
the city of their residence below are momentary, and give 
exercise to that faith that will be found unto honor and 
glory and praise in the day of Jesus Christ. ' The night 
soon flies ; and day eternal shines.' 

Again ; we may learn from this subject to be reconciled 
to the brevity of our residence on the earth. The life of 
man in this world, what is it but a busy dream, an empty 
vapor, a flying shadow ? nothing compared with immor- 
tality. While we are in this world admiring its beauties, 
tasting its provisions, conversing with its inhabitants, 
engaged in its employments, it may at times seem unde- 
sirable that we should be hurried through it with such 
rapidity, as that all our opportunities of acquaintance with 
it should leave us still comparatively strangers to it ; that 
when we have but just entered into its scenes, and been 
introduced to its inhabitants, and become interested in 
them, we should be torn away from them forever. But 
the city of God to come, may reconcile us to the fact of 
our having no continuing city on the earth. If we are 
seeking in earnest that habitation while passing through 



A Continuing City to Conic. 185 



this, we shall forever feel satisfied in the end that we 
spent no more days than we did of our existence here. 
For as no joys of this abode are worth an immortality, 
but such as are connected with the love and service of 
God, so these joys will be continued and greatly height- 
ened in the heavenly city. There will all they enter who 
loved the Saviour and his people here ; and they will find 
all the ages of eternity spent in services so much more ex- 
alted and satisfying than any in which they engaged below, 
as to make the exchange of dwellings their endless gain. 
If the city of your abode here is to be dissolved, the no- 
bler city of God above hath foundations that shall not be 
shaken through eternity : and if you are a willing stranger 
here, seeking by the word and Spirit of God admission 
there, you may well acquiesce in that appointment that 
allots you so few days below ; and see, without concern, 
days and seasons rolling away, that bring you nearer a 
better and more ending home. 

" They'll waft us sooner o'er 
This life's tempestuous sea: 
Soon we shall reach the peaceful shore 
Of blest eternity." 

Again ; we may learn from this subject to be reconciled 
to our departure out of the world in the painful manner of 
death. 

The manner in which man leaves his present habitation 
by death, invests that future unknown period of his being 
with terrors from which we all instinctively shrink. The 
pangs of dissolution, and the silence of the dead, from 
whom no voice of information reaches us — the terrors of 
what is seen, and the uncertainties respecting what is 
unseen, — render the event one of gloom, which cannot be 
penetrated except by the light of revelation. We look at 
the event as exhibiting in God the frowns of his dis- 
pleasure ; and our terror of the conflict is allayed, only by 
the faith that sees beyond the shades of death a Redeemer 
ready to admit us to the enduring city of God. If we are 
so happy as to enter that blessed place, we shall, when 
from its heights of salvation we look back on the dark 

25 



1 86 A Continuing City to Come. 



passage of death, feel forever satisfied that God the 
Saviour was leading us in the right way to a city of 
habitation. The pangs of dissolution were only giving 
exercise to that submissive love that glows eternally in 
the heavens ; a bod}' unfit for immortality was laid aside, 
to be resumed again incorruptible and glorious ; the dy- 
ing groan scarcely ceased, before the songs of victory 
arose ; and rising, though with the desert of hell, out of 
all conflicts to a habitation among the myriads of the 
holy, was almost an annihilation of death, a swallowing 
of it up in victory and immortality. 

If your residence here below, then, must be left with 
struggles, the joys of entrance into that above will oblit- 
erate the pain ; and if you are seeking entrance there by 
following the word and Spirit of Christ, you may learn to 
acquiesce in the thought of your departure ; and not to 
fear the lapse of time, which, while it brings you nearer 
the last conflict, brings you nearer also to the final and 
endless victory. 

Amid the trials of the present time, the brevity and 
uncertain continuance of life, and the daily progress of all 
towards the grave, they who are seeking a heavenly 
country then need not fear. Omnipotence speaks the 
word of promise from heaven, and reaches forth to them 
the arm of assistance, and points to companions above. 
" Hold fast then, brethren, your confidence, which hath 
great recompense of reward." " Hope to the end, for the 
grace that is to be brought unto you at the revelation of 
Jesus Christ." 

" Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to mourn ; 

Press onward to the prize. 
Soon our Saviour will return, 

Triumphant in the skies. 
Yet a season, and you know 

Happy entrance will be given : 
All our sorrows left below, 

And earth exchanged for heaven." 

And will that day of glory come? Shall the} r who 
follow their Saviour here have entrance given them into 



A Continuing City to Come. 187 



the everlasting joys of their Lord ? What hopes then are 
theirs ! What joys will be theirs when they shall be 
introduced as happy members into that heavenly Jeru- 
salem, which is filled with such countless multitudes of 
beings of glorious orders, actuated by perfect love, 
engaged in the sweetest employments, and secure in 
their joys through eternity ! To spend the days of eter- 
nity in that central residence of God, where his glories 
eclipse all these starry worlds, the mere suburbs of his 
celestial city. To glow with mental energies and love 
and adoration increasing through eternal years ! How 
glorious a termination of our cares and tears and faith 
below ! 

And what must the loss be to him who exhausts his 
heart on this abode ; who obeys not the gospel of our 
Lord Jesus Christ, and seeks not to partake of his hea- 
venly calling ! His doom is already written. Banish- 
ment, with everlasting destruction, from the presence of 
the Lord and the glory of his power! What loss ! when, 
torn from the joys of this abode — a fleeting dream — all 
happiness below for ever past — he gazes on that glorious 
residence where millions of celestial spirits dwell in love 
and adoration ; and finds its gates forever barred upon 
him, and his eternity to be passed with a few apostate 
angels and the lost of Adam's race, in the mere prison 
house of this universe. 

My friends, travelling to eternity, in prospect of the 
approaching year I can but wish you all a year of life, 
health, and spiritual and temporal happiness. But you 
begin it in a world of uncertainties. Its record will 
doubtless place some name among us on the roll of 
death. Where is he? Who is he? Whose fate is 
sealed the present year? Is he seeking now a city which 
hath foundations ? Is he clinging to this world ? Oh 
could I now unroll the record of divine decrees, and shew 
him to himself so soon to die, might it not stir him up to 



1 88 A Continuing City to Come. 



preparation for eternity? In these uncertainties, blessed 
be the Saviour, he calls you all to hear his word of 
grace. Rise up then at his command. Obey his call. 
Forsake the world, and seek a better country far, — the 
city of his presence and eternal love. On the way he 
calls you, go ; and the year will be a year of happiness, 
whether you spend it here, in these scenes of time, or in 
the city of your God above. But ah, if clinging to this 
world you die, it will be a year — an age — a whole eter- 
nity — of woe ! So soon ? So nigh? So thoughtless? Yet 
I tell thee, sinner, now, that when I meet thee at the gates 
of death, and on the passway to eternity, I may not need 
to tell thee then, Prepare ! 



CHRIST PRECIOUS TO BELIEVERS. 



I. PETER II : 7. 

Unto you therefore which believe, He is precious. 

The coming of Jesus Christ in the flesh was an event 
of great joy to our world. An act of astonishing mercy 
on his part, fulfilling the hopes inspired for ages in Israel, 
the pledge of a treaty of peace both honorable to God 
and consoling to man, — it was meet to be heralded forth 
by heavenly attendants as glad tidings of great joy to 
all people. - 

Yet when we see his humiliations in the flesh, and trace 
him on his way of poverty and reproach and suffering for 
our sins, and witness the agonies of Gethsemane and Cal- 
vary — when we see how his offers of mercy are rejected 
by a thoughtless world, who only take license from his 
long-suffering to be more bold in sin, it becomes us to see 
that our joy in his coming be placed on the right grounds. 

The joy, though offered to all, is truly participated in 
only by those, who in their need and guilt resort to him as 
their Saviour, who yield themselves to his instruction and 
care, and depend on his grace for perfect restoration to 
the favor and service and kingdom of God. They see in 
their own experience how precious he is, and join with 
the heavenly hosts in desiring all nations to hear the glad 
tidings of his grace, and earnestly pray that their de- 
praved and guilty fellow-men may be partakers with 
them in like precious faith. 

Such was the joy of Peter, when he addressed his fellow 
Christians in the text, " Unto you therefore which believe, 
he is precious." At that time he felt that he owed to the 
Lord Jesus Christ the obligations of a rebel humbled and 



190 Christ Precious to Believers. 



forgiven, of a backslider reclaimed and restored, and of a 
believer confirmed in his faith and devotedness and joyful 
in the assured hope of future glory. By his own experi- 
ence he had learned that Christ, who visited our world 
from the throne of heaven on the embassy of redemption, 
was in all respects suited and adequate to his spiritual 
wants. 

His fellow Christians too, he knew could unite, with his, 
their testimony to the preciousness of Christ. He could 
confidently address them : " Unto you which believe, he 
is precious." 

The value of Christ to himself and his fellow Christians, 
he places in this one comprehensive consideration : that 
Christ is a Saviour adequate to all the wants of 
believers. Peter learns his preciousness from this one 
extensive promise : " He that believeth on him shall not 
be confounded." Shall not be disappointed in his hopes. 
Therefore is it, he adds, that to believers he is precious. 

I shall manage the subject then in its true light, if I 
exhibit to you the believer, and the adequacy of Christ 
to his wants. 

I. Who then is the believer? 

Peter describes believers in a passage immediately 
preceding the text, and to that description we will now 
look for an answer to our question. According to his 
description, believers are those who have " tasted that 
the Lord is gracious." They are those, who by their 
belief bring the great object of faith home to their 
own experience; who not only believe that Christ the 
Lord offers grace to their acceptance, but who come to 
him personally and in faith, to accept and to taste his 
grace. They make real in their own feelings the truth of 
his gracious words in the gospel. They give reality to 
divine truth and yield their hearts to its deep and sacred 
impressions. They believe with the heart. Such is the 
mode in which they believe. 

The great object on which their faith terminates, accord- 
ing to this description of Peter, is Christ in his character of 
a Saviour. They taste that the Lord is gracious ; the Lord 



Christ Precious to Believers. 191 



Christ, who is said, in the immediate connection, to be disal- 
lowed of men but chosen of God and precious. The Lord 
Jesus Christ has undertaken the work of a Saviour, to turn 
his believing people from sin and Satan unto God. He is 
the Captain of Salvation ; the Head of the Church ; the 
exalted Prince of Israel, to whom the penitent in all ages 
have looked for redemption. 

The believer then places his reliance on Christ; and on 
Christ as gracious : a Saviour bestowing an unmerited and 
a free salvation. With him the Bible is the word of grace 
from Christ ; the whole family of the redeemed, the king- 
dom of his grace. To believe on Christ, then, is to 
believe the doctrines which Christ teaches in his word ; 
or, which is the same thing, those principles of grace on 
which Christ proceeds in relation to our world and in the 
establishment of his kingdom of redemption. 

Among the truths of his word which are illustrated in 
that kingdom, or which enter into the belief and experi- 
ence of the believer, the following seem to be funda- 
mental. 

1. That men are immortal. Christ has brought this 
truth into clear light by his coming. He has not merely 
asserted it, with a plainness not to be misapprehended ; 
but confirmed his assertions, by miracles, by the resurrec- 
tion of others, and by his own resurrection as the first 
fruits of the sleeping dead. I say that this is a funda- 
mental truth in the kingdom of Christ ; because that 
kingdom is eternal. This truth the believer admits, and 
commits his immortal soul to the keeping of Christ as the 
true Shepherd and Bishop of souls. 

Another essential truth, included in believing on Christ, 
is — 

2. That men are under the poiver and guilt of sin. They 
are not merely immortal ; but in consequence of the fall, 
their immortal existence, unless redemption is found, is 
involved in sin and misery. 

This is a truth which Christ maintains in his word ; and 
it is an important principle on which he conducts, in estab- 
lishing a kingdom of grace. On this principle he acted, 



192 Christ Precious to Believers. 



when he assumed our humble nature, and died on the 
cross in order to conduct his followers to glory. Were 
we, as prospectively seen by him, innocent beings, or were 
our guilt trifling, what need was there of his appearing 
on earth and pouring out his precious blood a sacrifice? 
A race of innocent beings could receive sufficient instruc- 
tion from his messengers. Unless we are sinners and justly 
exposed to endless miseries, why does the Gospel pro- 
claim the glad news of a Saviour ? A Saviour from what ? 
Not from annihilation surely ; for we were already im- 
mortal. Why else, too, is the erection of a kingdom of 
endless holiness and happiness among men, an act of 
grace ? There is no grace, surely, in sustaining and bless- 
ing forever a race of holy beings. On what other princi- 
ple than our depravity, too, does Christ make the 
universal call on men to repent, that iniquity be not their 
everlasting ruin ? 

Now the believer admits this truth, and brings it home 
to his feelings. He has read it in his own experience. 
He sees in some measure the infinite amiableness of the 
divine character, and the astonishing hardness of his own 
depraved heart. He sees and feels his depravity to be an 
immense evil. With shame and sorrow over it, and with 
heartfelt renunciation of it, he turns to God in Christ for 
redemption. 

Another truth, essentially connected with believing on 
Christ, is — 

3. That his death is the only ground of pardon. The 
believer relies on the atonement of Jesus for justification. 

That his death is the only sufficient atonement for sin, 
is proclaimed by the very fact, that in instituting a king- 
dom of grace he chose this method of pardon. " He 
died for our sins." For our rebellion against the right- 
eous government of Jehovah, he laid down his life. Now 
Christ acted, in making this sacrifice, on the principle, that 
his death only could make amends to the honor of the 
violated law : that, without it, there could be no remission 
of our offenses. The believer, then, admits this truth 
and brings it home to his feelings. He despairs of his 



Christ Precious to Believers. 193 



own righteousness, or of any other pardon, than that 
which is freely received at a throne of grace through 
the blood of Jesus. An immortal being, perishing in sin, — 
he feels his need of pardon from his God ; and he receives 
peace of conscience, only by humbly approaching God 
for it, in reliance on the blood of Christ. 

Another truth included in believing on Christ, is, 

4. That his power must sanctify. The believer seeks, for 
his spiritual recovery, the influence of his Spirit. 

The whole work of salvation is in his hands. He is a 
Saviour, not only on the ground of his merits, but by means 
of his power. When, after his crucifixion, he arose from 
death and ascended on high, he was exalted to the throne 
to give repentance unto Israel. By his Spirit he draws 
men unto him. He has declared his kingdom to be a 
kingdom of holiness, established by his Spirit. They who 
belong to his kingdom, are born of the Spirit ; they are 
led by the word and influence of the Spirit ; they walk in 
the precepts and power of the Spirit. The Spirit of life 
in Christ Jesus makes them free from the dominion of sin 
and death. Now the believer admits this truth, and 
brings it home to his feelings. He goes with supplication 
to Christ, to receive grace to help in time of need. With- 
out the power of Christ, he can do nothing to overcome 
his spiritual foes. Would he succeed in the Christian 
warfare ? He must be clothed with the armor of God. 
Would he be strong? He must be so in the Lord and 
the power of his might. Would he have hope ? He 
looks to the God of hope to fill him with joy and peace 
in believing, that he may abound in hope. Would he have 
eternal life ? It must be the gift of God through Jesus 
Christ. Deeply impressed with this truth, he goes, a 
needy and humble supplicant, and seeks from Christ his 
sanctification and eternal redemption. 

II. From this brief contemplation of the believer, we 
turn now to inquire why he esteems Christ to be precious. 

The comprehensive reason is stated by Peter in the con- 
text, in which he quotes from Isaiah xxviii : 16, this exten- 
sive promise: " Behold I lay in Zion a chief corner-stone, 

26 



194 Christ Precious to Believers. 



elect, precious; and he that believeth on him shall not be 
confounded." He who looks in true faith to this Saviour 
will never be disappointed in his hopes. He will find in 
him all suitable and adequate supply for his spiritual 
and immortal wants. "Therefore," adds the apostle, 
" unto you that believe, is he precious." On this ac- 
count is he precious. 

The believer then esteems Christ to be precious, because 
he finds in him a Saviour in all respects suited and ade- 
quate to his wants. 

The believer is constantly experiencing wants ; around 
him are temptations; within him, remaining depravit} T . 
Who then can uphold him in the path of duty but a pres- 
ent Saviour? He is exposed to a burdened conscience; 
to wander in darkness and be distressed with apprehen- 
sion ,of the frowns of heaven. Who can speak peace to 
his troubled spirit but a present Saviour ? Believers are 
exposed to trials from an ungodly world ; to have their 
name cast out as evil ; to suffer bodily pains and infirmi- 
ties ; or to experience the loss of estate or of friends. 
Who can administer comfort to them in their trials but 
a present Saviour? And such a Saviour is Christ. He 
has left his promise on record, that he will come and 
make his abode with believers. His declaration is, " My 
sheep hear my voice, and I know them." I know who 
they are and what is their situation. Not a contrite sigh 
for sin arises from any soul, but he is present to hear. 
Not a secret emotion of love to his cause springs up in 
any heart, but he perceives its rising. Not one cry of 
faith for deliverance is raised to heaven, but it reaches 
his ears. When passing through the fires or the waters 
of tribulation, his children may plead the promise, " I 
will be with thee." Is not Christ, then, precious to 
the believer, who is so very present a help in trouble? 

Again; believers need not only a present, but a power- 
ful Saviour. 

What matters it that Christ is present to witness their 
wants, if he has not power to relieve? 



Christ Precious to Believers. 195 



The believer needs a Saviour powerful enough to man- 
age his heart ; one who is able to subdue the obstinacy of 
his depraved will and corrupt affections ; who can melt a 
heart which threatenings and promises do not touch. 
Such a powerful Saviour is Christ ; exalted as King on 
the hill of Zion, bestowing the heart of flesh on Israel, 
bringing into captivity the wills of his people. 

The believer needs a Saviour who can manage all the 
concerns of the universe. His welfare depends on the 
minutest things as well as the great. He needs a Saviour 
who can manage, at least consistently with his good, all 
beings and worlds and events ; who will not suffer one 
thing to befall him contrary to his own wise and gracious 
pleasure. Such a powerful Saviour does the believer find 
in Jesus. For he assures his disciples that all power in 
heaven and on earth is in his hands. He promises that 
all things shall work together for good to those who love 
him and are. called according to his purpose. 

The believer needs a Saviour powerful enough, too, to 
manage his cause with an infinitely holy God. He has 
offended the Sovereign of the universe, whose laws are 
most holy and just and good. The penalty he has incur- 
red is just, and it is everlasting. Who, then, is powerful 
enough to manage his cause before the Infinitely Holy 
and Righteous One ? Who shall stay the execution of the 
dreadful sentence of his King? The believer sees in 
Christ his Saviour, the Son of God ; in whom the Father 
is always well pleased ; whom he always hears. Such a 
powerful advocate is managing his cause ; one who has 
laid down his life to ransom his followers, and pleads the 
infinite sacrifice above. Shall not then the blood of him 
who through the Eternal Spirit offered himself without 
spot to God, purge the consciences of believers from 
w r orks of death ? They may now draw near the throne, 
sprinkled from a guilty conscience, and behold with joy 
the face of a forgiving God, and hold joyful communion 
with him as a Father reconciled in Christ. 

Thirdly ; believers need not only a present and power- 
ful, but a compassionate Saviour. 



196 CJirist Precious to Believers. 



Not one who shall wink at their sins and leave them to 
perish ; but one who shall be mercifully faithful to rebuke, 
reclaim, and forgive. 

The believer who knows the least of his own heart, 
cannot but see that he needs constant compassion to be 
shown him from God. He has long abused divine grace ; 
and, since the time when he was brought to confide in 
God and experience the sweet pledges of pardoning 
mercy, he has not found his heart perfect with God. He 
sins still ; and he sins now against greater love and 
mercy ; and he knows that nothing will answer his wants 
but boundless compassion. Point him to a Saviour whose 
compassions fail, to a God whose mercies consume,— and 
you drive him to despair. No such Saviour can bear 
with his hard, ungrateful, rebellious heart. He must be 
rendered contrite and made ashamed of his guilt by a 
God, whose mercy is as high above our ways as the heav- 
ens are above the earth. The sinner, who has not seen 
the glory of the divine character and government, and 
the vileness of his own heart, may not feel the need of 
compassion in God, and may, like the infidel Rosseau, 
rely on the justice of his Maker. But O ! the returning 
backslider, the broken-hearted penitent, can never find 
relief for his burdened soul till he meets a God of abound- 
ing grace. 

What had become of Peter had not his Saviour been 
compassionate ? Called freely by Christ to his service ; 
admitted, next to John, as his bosom companion ; one of 
the favored three who witnessed the resurrection of 
Jairus' daughter, and beheld his glory on the mount of 
transfiguration : and yet, when his Master is apprehended 
and led to. the house of the high priest — in that time of 
his greatest sufferings, — he openly denies having had any 
connexion with Christ, and adds to the crimson guilt of 
denial the dreadful impiety of curses and oaths. Oh, 
what horrid iniquity ! Is there a God that can forgive ? 
He had a Saviour who could compassionate him, who 
could be " merciful to his unrighteousness ; " an advocate, 
who could even anticipate his wants; who, in full view of 



CJirist Precious to Believers. 197 



this hardness of heart, could pray for him that his faith 
should not utterly fail. 

The compassion of Christ undertook the work of salva- 
tion, in full view of all its difficulties, — all the reproaches 
which he must suffer from an ungodly world, all the per- 
vetsities with which he must bear in the hearts of his own 
followers. Nothing unexpected then can occur to turn 
him aside from his resolution of mercy- It is a motto in 
his kingdom which, however much abused by the licen- 
tious, is precious to the humble-hearted ; ' once forgiven, 
always forgiven.' Whom he once receives to his love, 
this faithful Shepherd loves and keeps to the end. He 
shows in the work of redemption, that he has infinite 
patience ; and that, when he pardons, he pardons like a 
God. " How shall I give thee up, Ephraim ; how shall I 
deliver thee, Israel? How shall I make thee as Aclmah ? 
How shall I set thee as Zeboim? My heart is turned 
within me ; my repentings are kindled together. I will 
not execute the fierceness of my anger ; for I am God, and 
not man." 

Lastly ; the believer needs not only a present, powerful 
and compassionate, but an everlasting Saviour. 

He perceives a boundless eternity before him, and he 
seeks some firm rock on which to rest his everlasting 
hopes. Where then shall he go for consolation ? 

Will you direct him to heathen sages or modern infi- 
dels? His soul starts at the thought of annihilation. He 
cannot bear the idea that, when called to close his eyes 
on the world and this pleasant creation, his faculties 
should be crushed and his perceptions and enjoyments 
be forever lost. Cold consolation this to the heart that 
beats and lives for immortality, and that is made to re- 
ceive its happiness only from the Fount of Infinite Love 
and Being ! 

Will you tell him to banish the thought of futurity ? 
Will you advise him, with the Epicure, to consult his 
present pleasures and dismiss the idea of the future? 
' Let us eat and drink ; for to-morrow we die.' He knows 
that these gratifications are unsatisfying to a rational 



198 Christ Precious to Believers. 



soul. He knows too, that time is bearing- him rapidly on 
its current to eternity, and that no struggles of his can 
delay his progress. 

Where then, as he surveys the prospect of an endless 
existence, shall he turn for light and comfort? His faith, 
like that of Peter's, can find no support but in Jesus. 
Turning from all other objects in the universe, and look- 
ing to Christ, he exclaims ; " to whom, Lord, shall I go 
but unto thee ; thou hast the words of eternal life ! " 
From the throne of Christ, light breaks in upon his pros- 
pects. United in faith and love to his risen and glorified 
Saviour, he feels the joys of immortality already spring- 
ing up in his soul. 

But is there no failure ? May there not a period in 
eternity arrive when this refuge shall fail me ? The pos- 
sibility of such an event would shake the very basis of 
the Rock of ages. I shall not find a Saviour adequate 
to my wants, unless I find one who will watch over my 
existence forever, and render it holy and happy. And 
such is Jesus Christ. He is the eternal "Life. They which 
are called by him, receive the promise of an eternal inheri- 
tance. He has become to those who obey him, the author 
of eternal salvation. They who have fled to him for a 
refuge, have found a shelter which shall endure through 
all the convulsions and all the agitations of the moral 
universe, — so long as God is on the throne, and the holy 
enjoy the tranquility of his reign. On this ground do we 
find the apostles speaking with such ardor of the love of 
Christ : it passeth knowledge ; its riches are unsearchable : 
it constrains them, like an overwhelming torrent, to pass 
through trials and hardships in extending his kingdom. 
They seem burdened for words to express its height and 
depth. They pray that their converts may be enlight- 
ened, in order that they " may understand what is the 
hope of his calling, and the riches of the glory of his 
inheritance in the saints." 

Is not a Saviour then, thus present, powerful, compas- 
sionate and eternal, justly esteemed precious by all his fol- 



Christ Precious to Believers. 199 

lowers, who are expecting - from him their eternal union 
to the kingdom of glory ? 

My Friends, permit me to inquire, or rather inquire of 
yourselves as in the presence of God, is he your Saviour ? 
Do you believe? Do you as immortal beings and as 
perishing sinners, feel your need of his atoning blood and 
renewing grace ? Have you ever experienced their vital 
efficacy ? Do you supremely aim at obedience to his 
will? Do you habitually approach his throne of mercy 
for the pardon of sin and the joy of reconciliation? Do 
you depend daily T on his gracious aid for guidance in 
duty, and for strength to conquer your enemies and give 
you the victory? 

If so, then may you have seen and felt something of 
the preciousness of Christ in this faint description. You 
may have perceived more of it in your own experience. 
But our powers have not yet fathomed the extent of that 
love which passeth knowledge. Be faithful to Christ and 
to your souls, live near to him, and you shall know more 
of his excellence as you advance in the journey of this 
life. More of his preciousness will be manifest to you, 
when you pass the valley of death. More of it will be 
unfolded to you, when you rise to meet him in the clouds 
of the air. More of his preciousness will beam on your 
souls, while permitted to pass in his presence the ages of an 
eternity to come. The sweet experience of his loving- 
kindness, the near view of his surpassing glory, will draw 
from your tongues the everlasting song ; "thou art wor- 
thy. Thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by 
thy blood ?" 

But, to those who, like the Jewish builders, disallow 
the precious corner-stone which God hath laid in Zion, 
he is a stone of stumbling and rock of offense. Precious 
as he is to believers, he is so to none else. Indeed, the 
very qualities which render him precious to his people, 
render him terrible to all his enemies. Is he present ? 
He is registering their deeds of guilt in the book of his 
remembrance. Is he powerful ? That power, which man- 
ages this mighty universe, will crush his obstinate foes, 



200 Christ Precious to Believers. 



Is he merciful? That mercy, which crowns Zion with 
eternal glories, will not spare her persevering adversa- 
ries. Is he everlasting? He will live forever to execute 
the penalties of his righteousness. 

Turn then to this Saviour, while you are prisoners of 
hope and he offers you life. Come now, while he freely 
invites you to enter his kingdom of grace and of glory. 
He that believeth on him, shall never be confounded. He 
that bejieveth on him, will find him precious both now and 
forever. Can you not, will you not, trust your soul on his 
promises? O, come to his cross in penitence and taste 
that he is precious ! 



NO ORDER IN THE GRAVE. 



JOB X: 2i, 22. 

I GO WHENCE I SHALL NOT RETURN, EVEN TO THE LAND OF DARKNESS AND 
THE SHADOW OF DEATH. A LAND OF DARKNESS, AS DARKNESS ITSELF, AND OF 
THE SHADOW OF DEATH, WITHOUT ANY ORDER. 

In this manner Job spake of his death and descent to 
the grave. He looked on the grave as a land whither he 
was going, and from which he should never come back to 
mingle again in the scenes and duties of this life. He 
regarded it, not indeed with the skeptic, as the final land 
of annihilation, but as the middle land of passage, from 
which he was to go forward to an eternal state. For 
though he was to lie down till the scenes of this world are 
past and the heavens be no more, yet, said he, " I know 
that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the 
latter day upon the earth, and, though after my skin 
worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God." 
He characterized the grave — this middle land — as a land 
' darkened with the shadows of death,' where the body 
lies in the darkness of insensibility, unconscious of the 
pleasant light of day ; and also, as a land in which is no 
" order," to which mankind descend irregularly, without 
respect to any precise and established arrangement, or 
rule of succession. 

It is the latter thought, more especially, to which I 
now design to call your attention — that there is no order, 
apparent to men, in the demands of the grave. 

To present the subject more fully and clearly, I will 
attempt, 

I. To define the sense in which the grave is without 
order ; 

II. To specify some things in which this want of order 
is most manifest ; and, 

27 



202 No Order in the Grave. 



III. To show the wisdom of God in so conducting his 
providence that the grave should be thus without order. 

I. In what sense, then, is the grave said to be " without 
order?" 

The expression does not mean, that mankind become 
the subjects of death and the grave without the operation 
of adequate causes. For, there are causes in operation 
among men sufficient to extinguish animal life, and which 
operate, according to established laws, in producing 
every instance of temporal death ; as truly, as there are 
causes in the natural world to produce the regular vicissi- 
tudes of day and night and of the seasons. 

Nor, again, does the expression mean, that these causes 
operate by chance, without the supervision and control of 
the Creator. For he holds all the secondary causes which 
operate in his kingdom in his hands, directing and turning 
them according to his own will. Nor are the causes of 
temporal death, any more than others, excepted from his 
control. Sickness, disease, violence, and even what we 
call the accidents of life, come and go, at his bidding or 
by his permission ; and, when it is his pleasure, come with 
sufficient force to extinguish temporal life. 

But the expression means, that the causes which operate 
to produce temporal death are so controlled by the Lord, 
as that the result is destitute of any regularity, or zvithout 
any order apparent and visible to man : breaking in upon, and 
disturbing, more or less, every plan and system of 
arrangement adopted among the living. The irregu- 
larity in this case, though not the same, may be illus- 
trated by that of the drawing of the lot ; the result of 
which is not without the operation of precise and suffi- 
cient causes, nor causes removed beyond the supervision 
and control of God : but yet it depends on no known 
principle of order, on which man can fix the calculation of 
certainty. Just so in the selection of the subjects of 
death from among the living, there is no one principle 
followed, apparent to man, by which he can fix the cer- 
tainty, as he can in those parts of nature where order is 
established on known and precise laws. 



No Order in the Grave. 203 



But I proceed, 

II. To specify some things in which this want of order 
is most manifest. 

In the selection made from the living", there is no order 
in respect to age. If death were fixed for all the indi- 
viduals of our race at one precise period of life, never 
occurring before or deferred beyond its arrival, there 
would then be manifest, in regard to the event, the order 
of time — the particular order of age. But such an order 
is broken up and wholly destroyed by the process of the 
grave. Alike from its dark halls are the summons issued, 
to take from the living the infant, the little child, the 
maturing youth, the full-grown man, the man of hoary 
age ; and down to its chambers they descend together in 
promiscuous ranks, and take their station side by side, 
totally regardless of age. 

Again : there is no order apparent, in respect to the 
character of those who are selected. We can see no plan 
adopted which proceeds at all on the principle of char- 
acter, either in respect to its usefulness or perniciousness 
to the living, or to its fitness or unfitness for happiness in 
another life. The good and useful are not all spared to 
old age. The evil and injurious are not all cut down in 
earlier life. The youthful Christian, and the venerable 
disciple who has spent his days in the service of his Lord, 
the youthful trangressor just entered on the stage of life, 
and the hardened offender grown old in his crimes, yield- 
ing to the summons of death, march, side by side, to the 
dark and shadow) 7 land of the grave. 

Again : there is no order in the grave, in respect to the 
station of those who are taken. Every principle of order, 
in relation to station in the family, in the church, or in the 
state, is broken in upon by. the demands of the grave. 
The parent is not spared for his importance to the house- 
hold, or the pastor on account of his flock, or the ruler on 
account of his subjects; but alike parents and children, 
pastors and their people, rulers and their subjects, go 
down together to the land of silence, and dwell, side by 
side, in their narrow mansions. 



204 No Order in the Grave. 



Again : there is no order in the grave, in respect to the 
previous health of its subjects. The weak and feeble are 
not selected in preference to the strong and vigorous. 
The debility of one does not necessarily subject him to 
the immediate call of disease and death ; nor the vigor of 
another certainly exempt him from its sudden approach. 
Both alike and indiscriminately are spared, or fall the 
victims of fatal disease, accident or violence ; and pass 
together to the land of silence. 

Once more : there is no order in the grave, in respect to 
the maimer in which its subjects are summoned out of life. 
We might suppose one invariable mode adopted in respect 
to the departure of all to the grave. But no such prin- 
ciple of regularity is at all followed. The diseases and 
causes which take men out of life differ exceedingly, in 
regard to the certainty with which they operate, the pain 
which they occasion, the time in which they continue. 
One disease is no sooner fastened on the system than it is 
known that death must follow, and all hope of recovery 
is forever extinguished. Another disease goes forward 
insidiouslj 7 to its work, not destroying the hope of re- 
covery, it ma) 7 be, till death itself suddenly announces 
its presence. One person lies the subject of a long and 
lingering consumption, while another, by the bursting of 
a blood-vessel, the stoppage of the heart, or by apoplexy, 
falls suddenly and without warning from the vigor of 
health into the arms of death. There is no regularity, no 
settled plan, according to which the grave summons its 
subjects away from life : but alike the long-forewarned 
and the suddenly-called, pass together into its dark 
domains. 

In these various respects, there is a total disregard of 
all appearance of regularity and plan in the demands 
which come up to the living from the shadowy realms of 
death. Lei us now consider, as was proposed, 

III. The wisdom of God in so conducting his provi- 
dence that there should be no manifest order in the grave. 

In the midst of all this apparent irregularity, there is 
indeed a general plan pursued in one respect : that all 



No Order in the Grave. 205 



mankind in their respective generations are removed 
from this world in the one way of temporal death. Re- 
specting the wisdom of God in this general plan of pro- 
cedure, I shall not now speak. But taking it for granted 
that this wa)^ of removing our race from the world is 
wise, I am to speak more particularly of the wisdom of 
accomplishing the removal without any obvious and 
fixed rules of order. 

Now, though we may not be able to discover all the 
positive reasons of wisdom which exist for this irregular- 
ity, or to trace those which we can discern out to their 
full extent, we shall at least see evidence of wisdom, if we 
find that any ends, important to God and his kingdom, 
are dependent on it, which could not be obtained by the 
opposite course of adhering to rules of known and strict 
order. 

Now, the present irregularity arises from the plan of 
varying the time and manner of removing individuals 
from the world by temporal death : and the only alterna- 
tive which exists in the case, is between a plan confined 
to one invariable time and manner in all cases, and a 
plan open to variation of time and manner: between per- 
fect regularity of time and manner in these respects, and 
irregularity : and between these plans the choice lies. 

With this general view of the ground on which we 
proceed in the inquiry, I remark that the following ends 
of wisdom are clearly dependent on the present course of 
providence, which could not be obtained without it. 

1. The care of human life itself is made to enter as an 
element into our present state of probation. 

The use of all lawful means for the preservation of our 
own lives and the lives of others around us, is in this way 
devolved on us as an imperious duty : and this particular 
duty is thus made to enter, as a part, into that system of 
duties which constitutes our trial, and is to form and 
manifest our character. That this is a consequence of the 
present plan of providence, is at once obvious. For the 
means by which life is supported, by which it is defended 
from violence, or subjected to it, by which it is guarded 



206 No Order in the Grave. 



from the attacks or the fatal progress of disease, or 
exposed to them, are now, to a limited extent, entrusted 
to our hands. And by these means, to the extent the) 7 
are entrusted to us, are we tried in respect to our volun- 
tary care of life. The precious deposit is left with us b)^ 
the Creator, under the solemn injunction of his authority, 
" Thou shalt not kill." And, in their treatment of this 
deposit, mankind will be proved and tried as the faithful 
servants of God, the negligent and the careless, or the 
violent and murderous. I say, this care of life in our- 
selves and others is devolved on us as a duty, under the 
present procedure of providence only. For, if the oppo- 
site course were adopted by the Creator, to remove men 
from life invariably at a regular time and in a uniform and 
regular manner, the present laws of animal life must be 
altered or suspended in their operation, and he would take 
the care of life wholly out of the hands of man into his 
own hands. The continuance of life and its termination, 
would have no more connection with the care and con- 
duct of men, than have now the movements of planetary 
worlds, the revolution of the seasons, the rise of the tides, 
the succession of day and night : so that it is only under 
the present system of irregularity, in which the causes of 
death are to a certain extent entrusted to man, that the 
care of life is entrusted to his hands, and comprised 
among the duties which constitute his probation for eter- 
nity. Nor does it need labored argument to show that, 
while this life is constituted a scene of probation for the 
formation of character in reference to a coming eternity, 
it is wise to devolve on man the care of so precious an 
interest as that of the continuance of life in himself and 
others, and to constitute it one of the means of his trial. 
For this interest is thus put on a harmonious footing with 
all his other interests, each of which is made so far depen- 
dent on his agency, as to appeal to his feelings, to impose 
on him a duty ; to constitute a trial, in which his character 
is formed and tested : and it favors more strongly the cul- 
tivation of respect to the will of God, and benevolent 
affection towards our fellow-creatures, to have so precious 



No Order in the Grave. 207 



an interest of humanity devolved in some measure upon 
our care. Just as in entrusting the Gospel to the hands 
of men, as the means on which the spiritual and eternal 
life of the race depends, the care of that high and ever- 
lasting interest is devolved on us who receive the Gospel 
as a means of trial, and a most powerful call addressed to 
our hearts to enter into fellowship with Christ in his love 
to God and compassion to the guilty, by publishing the 
Gospel of his grace abroad in all lands to every creature. 

Again, 

2. The present course of providence renders the call on 
man, to attend to the duties of his passing probation, more 
pungent. 

For now the probabilities of continued life, gathered 
from the general course of providence, are sufficiently 
strong, to remove from man an absorbing and overwhelm- 
ing fear of immediate death. He has a sufficient pros- 
pect of continued life, to allow him to give his earnest 
attention and interested feelings continually to his pres- 
ent duties, by means of which alone he can avail himself 
of the true privileges of his probation, and form a char- 
acter of diligent devotion to God and to the interests of 
his fellow-creatures — the true preparation for eternal 
blessedness. But while, on this hand, the probability of 
continued life is sufficiently strong, to free his mind from 
that distracting and overwhelming fear of death, which 
would prevent hearty attention to his spiritual duties, — 
while the probability is sufficiently strong, to allow him 
to give his supreme attention to them, — there is, on the 
other hand, that possibility of his being called away at 
any moment, which constitutes a most loud and imperious 
call upon him, not to loiter away in worldliness and sin 
the passing moments of his day of grace. The irregular- 
ity of the very manner of death too, as well as of the time, 
not only rebukes the presumption of delaying attention to 
his duties to future years and times, but of waiting even 
for the monitions of disease. For it is possible that 
disease may be short and hasty in its work, leaving him 
no time for preparation ; it may be too violent and for- 



208 No Order in the Grave. 



cible to permit the exercise of his rational faculties, or, 
hidden, internal and unfelt in its subtle approaches, it may 
strike him down instantly while in the full career of life. 
The possibility of instant death, and a death of which he 
is unwarned, therefore, calls imperiously upon him to 
address himself immediately to the great duties of this 
life : to be instant in season and out of season in the great 
work, which alone will fit him for happiness in another 
world. To this voice of providence the Saviour appealed, 
when calling on man to make the preparation. " Be ye 
ready: for in such an hour as ye think not, the Son of 
Man cometh." 

But if, on the other hand, a system of regularity were 
adhered to, all this influence to favor the calls to prepara- 
tion for another life would be lost. The entire certainty 
which would occupy every mind in respect to the precise 
age and manner of removal would, in the earlier periods 
of human life, too strongly facilitate the presumption in 
man of neglecting the duties of this state, and giving him- 
self to the pleasures of the world, and with the increased 
worldliness and hardness of heart nourished within him in 
this presumptuous career, his unwillingness be increased 
to address himself to the duties of religion and prepara- 
tion for eternity, until, finding himself on the brink of 
removal, he should wake up, at the last hour, like the 
criminal condemned to execution, only to be absorbed 
with the fears of death and the terrors of despair. Such 
at least we can see to be the tendency of such a system on 
such a being as man — a being who is inclined to such a 
course even now, amid all the present powerful monitions 
of providence to the contrary. 

Is it not wise, then, on the part of God, to proceed, in 
the removal of man from the world, in a way which ever 
renders the grave so powerful a preacher ; calling alike 
on the young, the mature, the aged — on man at every 
point and station in this life — to address himself to his 
present duties, and thus prepare himself for a blessed 
immortality ? not throwing on man such a despair of con- 
tinued life as to palsy all hope and exertion, nor giving 



No Order in the Grave. 209 



him such a warrant of long-continued exemption from the 
call of death, as to embolden him to neglect the present 
and vainly presume on the future. 

Again, 

3. A superior moral discipline is exerted over mankind 
by means of the present course of providence in the 
infliction of death. 

If death were brought on each individual of the race at 
a precise age and in a precise manner, unvarying in all, 
there could be in the event no opportunity for the Creator 
to make any special manifestation of his feelings, to ad- 
dress any special admonitions to mankind, or specially to 
adapt the trial and chastening to the state of survivors. 
There would be only the one, general and unvarying 
expression of divine feeling, exhibited in the general plan 
of removing man from the world in the way of temporal 
death. But now, those ends of superior moral discipline 
are gained. There is now opportunity for God to mani- 
fest his feelings towards men in this part of his provi- 
dence. He has not cut himself off from the opportunity, 
as he would have done by the adoption of one invariable 
time and manner of removal. And if we look to the 
actual course of his providence, we shall see that he has 
availed himself of the opportunity to testify to men the 
feelings of his heart, and bring them near to him for 
moral discipline. The patience of his heart he now 
proves to us, in permitting the transgressor to live on to 
old age amid the abused privileges of this state. For 
while it is in his hands to kill or keep alive each moment 
as he pleases, what patience must be in his heart to be 
willing to endure the hardened transgressor with such 
long-suffering ! Compassion too he now manifests, in 
restoring men to life from the borders of death. For, as 
men now sink under the withering power of disease, they 
ask it as a mercy, that he spare them a little longer before 
they go hence, and if he hear their cries and raise them 
up, they see and feel the pity and compassion of his heart. 
This exercise of his compassion, in healing sickness and 
saving from death, is referred to by the inspired writers, 

28 



2io No Order in the Grave. 



in their appeals to the feelings of men : it is thus described 
by David. " They draw near unto the gates of death. 
Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and he 
saveth them out of their distresses. He sent his word 
and healed them, and delivered them from their destruc- 
tions. O that men would praise the Lord for his good- 
ness, and for his wonderful works unto the children of 
men ! " The feeling of displeasure or vengeance towards 
sin is also at times specially manifested. It is often sup- 
posed, that because one event — that of temporal death — 
happeneth to all, neither the love or hatred of God can 
be shown in the event. That it is not the usual method 
of God so to administer temporal death, as by that event 
alone to publish his hatred or approbation of the conduct 
of its subjects to the world, must be acknowledged. Yet 
that he does not occasionally make special manifestations 
of his displeasure, cannot be affirmed with truth. The 
way is open for him to administer death, whenever he 
shall see occasion, in that signal and fearful manner which 
shall publish aloud his judgments. And he has done it. 
The memorable instances of a deluged world, and the 
consumption by fire of Sodom and Gomorrha, are re- 
corded as eternal monuments of his vengeance. And the 
revelation made of his future providence show us death 
on his pale charger, riding forth to execute vengeance on 
the guilty nations. And not only in the method of public 
judgments, when war, pestilence, famine, go forth as 
executioners of men, does he manifest vengeance. But 
also in suffering individuals, in many instances, to be 
executioners of themselves, by means of their own sins. 
They are left to reap temporal death, as the direct and 
obvious wages of their own folly. They cut themselves 
off from life by their iniquities. Their sin itself has upon 
it the brand of death and divine displeasure. This is seen, 
not merely in the direct and wilful suicide, who, fretting 
against God and providence, is left to be devoured in the 
fire of his own rage and by the blows of his own wrath : 
it is seen written also on that slower progress of awful 
forms of disease and premature death, which spring from 



No Order in the Grave. 2 1 1 



the particular sins and vices of men. They flow as direct 
retributions for infringements on the laws of God. 
" Fools," says the Psalmist, " because of their transgres- 
sions, and because of their iniquities, are afflicted. Their 
soul abhorreth all manner of meat, and they draw near 
to the gates of death." If their diseases are not arrested 
in mercy, but are allowed to go on unto death, is not the 
displeasure of God against their sin at least — -whether 
their souls are penitent and pardoned or not — proclaimed 
in the manner of their death ? 

There is now opportunity also for God to address spe- 
cial instruction and warning to mankind. Indeed every 
special manifestation of his feelings, which he now lets in 
upon the world, is an appeal to the feelings of men ; he 
sets before them the feelings of his own heart, in order to 
affect theirs and bring them into sympathy and harmony 
with him. His patience towards us is manifest, to put 
down our impatience and fretfulness towards him and 
towards our fellow-men. His compassion,— to enkindle 
compassion in our breasts for the needy, the suffering, the 
guilty, who surround us. His displeasure, — to awaken 
displeasure in our hearts against sin, that we may crucify 
it in ourselves and labor to exterminate it in others. 

But beside the admonitions arising to men from these 
manifestations of divine feeling, there is more especial 
warning still addressed to men from death : in its coming 
near us and removing the friends and associates, who are 
at our side, into eternity. A removal would indeed take 
place on the plan of regularity in death. But in far dif- 
ferent circumstances, with no special appeals addressed to 
any ; all of whom are assured of the same fixed length of 
life. Now it is the removal of our associates and friends, 
our co-equals in age ; their removal at every stage of our 
journey ; their departure from us in childhood, in youth, 
in manhood : bursting from the closest sympathies of life, 
and leaving us here, who might have been called away in 
their stead, to go onward still in our probation, from the 
stage and point where theirs is closed for eternity. What 
an appeal is thus brought up to us on all our way in life, 



212 No Order in the Grave. 

from the death of companions falling at our side ; to re- 
mind us of our duty, to affect us with the providence that 
permits us to linger amid the privileges from which they 
have been withdrawn, and bids us be ready to follow 
them at any time into eternity ? 

There is now opportunity also for God to adapt the 
chastening, which he administers through death, more 
wisely to the spiritual welfare of survivors. Death is to 
invade every family circle. But when shall it come, how 
shall it approach, whom shall it invade ? All is now open 
and free for the Lord to do as seemeth good in his sight. 
And does it make no difference how he proceeds ? Though 
we may not see what particular course wisdom might 
dictate, yet is it not obvious that to infinite wisdom one 
course must appear preferable to another? He must see 
who most need correction, what extent of correction will 
be most profitable, and we are assured from his possession 
of infinite wisdom, that in the present procedure of his 
providence he adapts the chastening and correction he 
administers through death, in a manner the most profita- 
ble to afflicted friends, consistently with the other ends he 
is seeking at the same time in his kingdom. We are 
assured from his own mouth that he doth it for our profit, 
that we might be partakers of his holiness — that we may 
be brought into subjection to him, the Father of our 
spirits and live. 

Such are the modes of superior moral discipline, which 
the present manner of inflicting death enables the Lord 
to administer to mankind. 

I remark, once more only, 

4. By means of the present providence of God in respect 
to death, the exercise of superior wisdom is admitted 
in the removal of men from their stations on earth into 
those they are to occupy in eternity. This consideration 
opens before us a field too boundless in extent to be 
traversed by our feeble faculties. The eternal world is 
wholly beyond our sight, and we know not what change 
is affected there by the introduction of a new inhabitant, 
or who of the millions of this world it is best should 



No Order in the Grave. 2 1 3 



arrive there on the morrow. In the present world too, 
we can trace the results to arise from the removal of a 
single person but a little way, as these results circle 
forth from the vacancy on the surrounding mass. How 
little then can we know of the relation the removal may 
have on the plans of wisdom for this world, in all its ages, 
and in all the relations it bears to the future world ! We 
stand on the verge of an illimitable field of beings and 
results, extending far beyond our ken into the regions of 
immensity and eternity. Yet we know^ that there is One, 
whose piercing vision takes in the whole ; and we have 
confidence in his wisdom, that at whatever time he takes 
any being from this scene of life and transfers him to 
eternity, he sees it best for the interests of his whole 
kingdom, that the removal should then be made. We 
know that, on the present plan of providence, there is free 
opportunity for the Creator to remove whomsoever he 
pleases, at whatsoever time, and in whatsoever manner : 
that consequently there is a range for the exercise of his 
wisdom in best adapting the removal to the interests of 
his whole kingdom, that would be entirely excluded on 
the plan of removing all from the world at one and the 
same period of life. Now we have this confidence, that 
when the good and useful man is cut off from the earth 
in early age, the world will not suffer on the whole, or 
that if it should at all, there will be gain more than 
enough to counterbalance it in the kingdom of God 
above:— or that, when the guilty tyrant and oppressor is 
continued long on earth, the world will not suffer more 
on the whole than were he more early removed, or at 
least that results will be gained in the whole kingdom 
of eternit} T , more than enough to counterbalance the dif- 
ference that remains. The problem is simply this : all 
other things remaining as they are ; that is, in a world of 
sin where grace is canning forward its conquests, and 
from which all its generations are to be removed to their 
endless retributions, is it best adapted to advance the 
objects of infinite wisdom and goodness in both worlds 
taken together, to remove all men at a precise age of life, 



214 No Order in the Grave. 



or to vary the time and manner with the individuals ? 
Every one who admits the connection of means and ends 
in the kingdom of God, must have confidence that the 
present plan of removal is the true solution of the prob- 
lem — that it is best adapted to gain the ends of wisdom- 
that it lets in the exercise of superior wisdom in the 
providential management of this world — that it gains 
more to the kingdom of God on the whole. 

Such then I conceive to be some of the important ends 
gained by the present providence of the Creator, which 
breaks in upon every apparent principle of regularity and 
order in the infliction of temporal death — ends, which must 
totally be excluded from attainment under a system of 
uniform regularity and order, and which consequently 
evince the wisdom of God in pursuing the present sys- 
tem. 

To recapitulate them in the order we have considered 
them, they are the following : — the care of human life is 
made to enter as an element of duty into our present 
state of probation ; the call to attend to the duties of our 
probationary state, and prepare for another life, is ren- 
dered more powerful ; a superior moral discipline is ex- 
erted over mankind by means of the infliction of death ; 
and the exercise of superior wisdom admitted, in the re- 
moval of men from their stations on earth into those 
which they are to occupy in eternity. 

And now what are the practical conclusions we are to 
derive from the whole ? 

We find ourselves here in a world of probation, going 
soon through the shadowy realm of death to a state of 
eternal retribution. When we once go, we shall never 
return : and with no return to the privileges of this day 
of grace, our eternal condition is irreversibly fixed. If 
lost, we are lost forever: if redeemed, redeemed beyond 
danger and thrall. We have seen that, in this situation 
of deep interest in which we are placed, there is no visi- 
ble order in the demands which come up to us from the 
grave ; and we find that, in this very departure from any 
fixed law of order in the time and manner of death, the 



No Order in the Grave. 215 



Creator is favoring our spiritual interests in this state of 
probation, — increasing the motives to that devotion and 
holiness which constitute the only true preparation for 
future blessedness ; and consulting, at the same, the high- 
est good of his entire kingdom. 

Does not the subject then obviously call upon us, not 
only as sinners to be reconciled to God — without which 
all our interests are wrecked to eternity — but more espe- 
cially, to submit as reconciled children to his Fatherly 
wisdom, and occupy ourselves diligently in his service ? 

To submit as reconciled children to his Fatherly wisdom. 
Any evidence which he gives us of his wisdom and good- 
ness, should indeed lead us with a filial confidence to com- 
mit ourselves and our friends and fellow-creatures to the 
disposal of his will. But it may assist us to submit, more 
peacefully and calmly, to a trying part of his providence, 
if we can see, amid the darkness that surrounds it, some 
clear traces of wisdom and goodness — that the light of 
his love shines forth, even from the gloom and darkness. 
When we look on the apparently indiscriminate and 
irregular path of his providence, there is much that looks 
dark and mysterious. We fix our eye perhaps on some 
affecting instance of death ; and we instinctively ask, why 
should not death have longer delayed? Why should it 
not have come in some other form ? But why shall 
we doubt or complain? If we cannot trace the ways 
of Jehovah through all their intricacies, does he not let 
us see that he is ordering this branch of his providence in 
a way to conduce to the spiritual welfare of mankind and 
the best good of his kingdom ? We can see at least, 
that the general plan on which he is proceeding, out 
of which these cases of trial arise, is the best, and 
therefore adopted by fatherly wisdom and goodness. 
Let us then without a murmur or complaint, without 
a wish to take the disposal of ourselves or others out of 
his hands, calmly leave all with him ; rejoicing that, in 
this part of his providence, he doeth all things well — that, 
as a faithful and compassionate Creator, he is consulting 
the well-being of his kingdom and the true welfare of all 



216 No Order in the Grave. 



who commit their ways and their souls to his care. This 
is true submission : unlike the stoic apathy which submits, 
as to a blind fate, with a hard-hearted indifference towards 
God and his creatures. This is the submission of filial 
love, which honors God and cherishes the best affections 
in the heart of man. 

The subject calls upon us also to occupy ourselves dili- 
gently as his servants. For the Lord is ever near us, 
calling upon us to value that life on which hangs our des- 
tiny, and to occupy its hastening hours in preparation for 
future glory. He is near us continually, appealing to our 
hearts from affecting scenes of death. He is ever near, 
taking his servants from this world into eternity. While 
the Lord is constantly so near, showing his footsteps in 
the darkest storms of his providence, opening a path of 
light for all his devoted and faithful servants, be assured 
that your wisdom, your safety, your happiness lies in 
being fervently and diligently occupied, as obedient ser- 
vants, in the great work he has given you to do in this 
life. This course calls down the light of his countenance 
upon you, and brings you into communion with his Spirit, 
as you pass along your way to the grave. It lets you, 
with peaceful hope of heaven, leave calmly, at his dis- 
posal, the hour and manner of your departure ; and pre- 
pares you to meet the event, when it comes, with joy, as 
the time and way your Lord appoints you of resting from 
your earthly labors and trials, and entering upon immortal 
blessedness in heaven. Be ye then servants of God in 
this world of your probation. Be ye followers of Jesus 
in these scenes of his trial. Be diligent, immovable, always 
abounding in the work of the Lord, while here on your 
w,ay to his immovable kingdom above. For Christ, our 
Master, will soon dismiss us from these scenes. ' Blessed 
are those servants whom, when he cometh, he shall find 
so doing ! 

How, when, it shall be 
We cannot foresee ; 
But Lord, let us live, let us die, unto thee! 



THE DEATH OF JOHN THE BAPTIST, 



MATTHEW XIV: 3— n. MARK VI: 17—29. 

This distinguished preacher of righteousness was sent 
as a prophet to Israel, to announce the Messiah and intro- 
duce him into his public ministry. He had been engaged 
in this office somewhat more than a year and a half, when 
his faithfulness gave such an offense to the family of 
Herod Antipas, king of the Tetrarchy of Galilee, as w r as 
never forgiven ; which led to his immediate imprisonment, 
and subsequently to his death. 

The offense was given by a speech which John made in 
the presence of Herod Antipas, in regard to his marriage. 
That speech excited the displeasure of the king ; but the 
venom of anger rankled deepest in the breast of his proud, 
ambitious and pleasure-loving consort, — the beautiful, yet 
faithless Herodias. This aspiring matron, as we learn 
from the Jewish historian Josephus, the grand-daughter 
of Herod the Great, had first married her uncle Herod 
Philip ; and becoming disgusted with him, as a man who 
had fallen into disgrace in the family, and was left without 
place and without fortune in the world, she intrigued with 
another uncle, already married, this Herod Antipas, the 
king of Galilee, with whom for a husband she would secure 
herself a palace and a crown. The plot succeeded : the 
enamored Herod Antipas divorced his wife, without cause, 
and sent her to her father, king Aretas : the faithless Hero- 
dias, taking with her her daughter Salome, forsook her first 
husband ; and these parties, in full violation of their exist- 
ing marriage vows, united their fortunes in an incestuous 
marriage in the palace at Tiberias in Galilee. They were 

29 



218 The Death of John the Baptist. 



living in this strange union, and she with her daughter 
were reveling in the splendors and luxuries of a Roman 
court, when John the Baptist, that stern preacher of the 
laws of righteousness, that zealous promoter of the cause 
of repentance and reformation, came into Galilee exer- 
cising his ministry among the people. His increasing 
fame and reputation as a prophet, brought him into notice 
in high places. Herod, on the throne of Galilee, could 
not be indifferent to the influence which he was acquiring 
among the people, and which might be, if not rightly 
managed, wielded against him for purposes of sedition 
among his subjects. He watches the prophet. He seeks 
occasion and opportunity to hear him. He regards, in his 
outward practice before the people, many of his precepts. 
He appears for a while pleased with his discourses. But 
the occasion soon arrives for the prophet to be more 
direct ill dealing with the conscience of the king, than he 
could do with propriety and without appearance of scan- 
dal in the promiscuous assemblies of the multitude. In 
consequence of the popularity of the preacher, it is 
probable that he was invited to attend at the palace 
and preach before the court, where the king and queen 
would stand prominent before him ; and faithfulness to 
the highest interests of his host and hostess, would seem 
to demand an utterance of the truth and an applica- 
tion of it in favor of personal repentance and reformation. 
On such an occasion, probably, was it (if it were not a 
still more private interview taken with the king alone) 
that the speech was uttered, which proved the source of 
his persecution even unto death. The speech is short, as 
it is reported ; but it unfolded the whole enormity- of their 
sin, and sent an arrow to their hearts, that gave a wound 
never to be healed except by repentance : " It is not law- 
ful for thee to have her, thy brother's wife." On that 
annunciation, Herodias, more than Herod, trembles. 
' Will the prophet prevail over the conscience of my hus- 
band to put me away ? and shall I, with my daughter, be 
thrust out of the palace in disgrace ?' She turns with 
rage against the prophet. She forthwith sets her pliant 



'flic Death of JoJ in the Baptist. 219 



husband to the work of silencing this reprover. She 
would have him executed instantly : but her husband, 
troubled a little in conscience, and fearing more the indig- 
nation that might be excited against him in the populace, 
though desirous to gratify her will, forbears to slay the 
prophet : but withdraws him from the people, and closes 
his opportunities of giving farther reproof, by shutting 
him up and enchaining him, within the prison of the castle. 
This account of the imprisonment of John is briefly 
stated by Matthew and Mark, but in the plus-perfect time, 
because in their history the narrative of the imprisonment, 
being omitted in its proper place, is introduced as a past 
and prior transaction, to preface the account of his death. 
" Herod had laid hold on John and bound him and put 
him in prison for Herodias' sake, his brother Philip's wife. 
For John said unto him, it is not lawful for thee to have 
her." The two historians present different motives that 
induced Herod to forbear the execution and content him- 
self with the bare imprisonment of John. Mark says, 
" Therefore Herodias had a quarrel against him [John] 
and would have killed him ; but she could not : for Herod 
feared John, knowing that he was a just man and a holy, 
and observed him, and when he heard him he did many 
things and heard him gladly." His respect and reverence 
for the prophet, notwithstanding the offense which made 
him wish his death, checked him from proceeding farther 
than imprisonment. Matthew says, " And when he 
would have put him to death, he feared the multitude, 
because they counted him as a prophet." His own dis- 
pleasure and his wife's entreaties, both made him wish for 
the death of John, but he was held back and restrained 
from such extreme violence, partly by his reverence for 
the prophet and partly by his fear of the people. 

A year had elapsed and more. Herod, with Herodias 
and Salome, lived on amid the pleasures of royal wealth 
and extravagance. John is effectually silenced in the 
prison ; and though his friends and disciples, through the 
leave of the king, may occasionally have access into his 
presence, his discourses before the multitude have ceased, 



220 The Death of John the Baptist. 



and they become less and less interested in his fate and 
fortune. 

The day arrives at length, on which the incensed Hero- 
dias has opportunity to indulge the malice of her heart. 
" When a convenient day was come," says Mark, in intro- 
ducing the narrative. That was the birthday of Herod, — 
to be celebrated with great pomp and with riotous feast- 
ing in the palace. " Herod, on his birthday, made a sup- 
per," says Mark, " to his lords, high captains and chief 
estates of Galilee." The guests invited were the men of 
the Tetrarchy who ranked highest in military and civil 
offices, and who, being nearest him in command, were the 
most familiar friends of the king. The tables were orna- 
mented with the rich and splendid furniture of royalty ; 
the dishes were filled with savor}- viands to regale the 
appetite ; the cups and goblets were sparkling with wine. 
The company recline on their couches around the extend- 
ed tables. The halls glare, at this evening hour, with a 
flood of light from the many burning lamps. And as the 
feast advances, and the king and his courtiers become 
excited with wine and yield themselves to unrestrained 
hilarity, at this fitting opportunity to gain promises and 
presents, the young Salome, the daughter of Herodias, 
decorated and sent in no doubt by her artful mother, 
appears before the company in the dress and with the 
graceful movements of the dancing girl, to perform a part 
which was often enacted in those days, for the entertain- 
ment of a feasting party — the graceful, giddy, and volup- 
tuous dance. As she enters the hall of feasting, and 
stations herself opposite the king, — her brilliant features 
radiant with smiles, her decorated form illuminated with 
light, and waving to and fro in the dance, her gestures 
of beauty and love, attract all eyes and give a crowning 
joy to the feast. The step-father on his royal couch is 
pleased most of all. The excitements of the wine-cup 
have driven away all prudence from his heart and all dis- 
cretion from his tongue. Before the whole company so 
filled with pleasure, he gives way to the pride and pleas- 
ure awakened in his own heart at receiving such an enter- 



The Death of John the Baptist. 221 



tainment from his daughter, and utters the rash promise 
"Ask of me whatsoever thou wilt, and I will give it thee." 
He was not content with the bare utterance of such an 
unguarded promise. Like a fool overcome with wine 
and pleasure, who, regardless of the future, lets the feel- 
ing of the moment rule his words and actions, he repeats 
the promise, and binds himself to it with a loud oath 
before the whole company. " He sware unto her, what- 
soever thou shalt ask of me, I will give it thee, unto the 
half of my kingdom." 

Upon securing that promise, Salome leaves the room. 
The promise of half the kingdom — half its revenues of 
wealth and luxury — she now holds in her hand. She goes 
straightway to her mother. Is she a dutiful child that 
seeks advice of her nearest earthly friend, or a successful 
complotter, who has gone to tell the triumph of the 
scheme and give her malignant mother the joy of pre- 
senting an order through her that shall compel the obe- 
dience of the king? The sequel determines. " And she 
went forth and said unto her mother, what shall I ask? 
and she said, the head of John the Baptist." Behold, the 
value put on revenge ! The wealth of half a kingdom 
is thrown away to gratify this one malignant passion ! 
If the daughter was not an accomplice with her mother 
before, she is now. All the wealth she might appropri- 
ate to herself is neglected, that she may gain her mother's 
will. Perhaps she and her mother both felt, that if John 
the Baptist lived, he might yet turn them both away 
from sharing the kingdom with Herod, and that, to enjoy 
securely their estate in his good graces, this preacher of 
righteousness must be effectually silenced. So she return- 
ed quickly with her mother's message. " She came in 
straightway with haste unto the king." The king was to 
be taken, while yet in the excitement of his cups ; while 
his promise and oath were still resounding in the ears of 
his guests. And quickly, too, must the boon be given 
her by the king. For time, delay, reflection, were dan- 
gerous things to be allowed to come in before the exe- 
cution of such a request as she was to make. The first 



222 The Death of John the Baptist. 



thing was to obtain her request : to have it accomplished ; 
to get the head of the Baptist taken off while the king 
was in the humor to fulfill his promise: and then, — let 
thought and reflection come on the morrow, — thev can 
not defeat her purpose of revenge. 

Again before the feasting company Salome stands. 
There is now a cloud on her brow ; a smile of malicious 
triumph on her cheek. She appears more thoughtful 
than before. To the astonishment of the whole company, 
to the grief of the king, she asks the horrid gift. " 1 
will that thou give me — by and by," or as the Greek word 
is more appropriately rendered, forthwith — " in a char- 
ger — the head of John the Baptist." See how artful has 
been the malice of the mother, so to frame the request as 
to make all things sure. Forthwith — that there may be 
no opportunity, between an order given to an executioner 
and the time of its fulfillment, to allow of arresting the 
process by the intervention of any counter-order. The 
head upon a plate or dish — that there may be no deception 
practiced as to the person or his execution. " Give me 
forthwith, in a charger, the head of John the Baptist." 
O what a miserable entertainment was this to be to that 
feasting company! Instead of the fascinating dancing 
girl, entertaining them with joy, she stands before them 
as a murderess seeking revenge through death, and waits 
in their presence till she shall receive, and hold, reeking 
in its blood before them, the head of the hated prophet. 
" And the king was exceeding sorry : yet for his oath's 
sake, and for their sakes which sat with him," lest per- 
haps they should reproach him for his fickleness and 
inconstancy, or on account, perhaps, of the desire of many 
of them to court the favor of the queen — " he would not 
reject her. And immediately the king sent an execu- 
tioner, and commanded his head to be brought." 

Let us leave now awhile this hall of splendor, in which 
the king and his guests are still feasting, though with 
misgiving hearts, and where the damsel is in waiting to 
receive her dowry, dreadful as it is, yet more valued than 
half the kingdom of Galilee ; let us leave the palace and 



The Death of John the Baptist. 223 



visit that dark apartment in the castle, in which the pris- 
oner John resides, confined in chains. He has passed now 
within these walls more than a year and a half: for he 
was confined not long after the first passover after Jesus 
was inducted into office, and now the third passover is at 
hand. During this period he has at times seen his fol- 
lowers : and, soon after the second passover, he sent, in 
great trial, an embassy to Jesus to learn what he might 
expect from him in regard to setting up his kingdom. 
Jesus returned an answer which probably satisfied this 
righteous prophet, that his kingdom would be set up in 
his own time and way, and led him to submit without 
offense to the providence of Jesus, as ordered in wisdom, 
and wait with patience for blessedness in his kingdom. 
Yet his ministry, though suddenly and early closed, had 
produced its effect : and his life, though now to be cut off 
from the earth, was to be exalted to a more peaceful 
state than befel him in his fastings, his preaching of re- 
pentance, and his cruel persecutions on earth. He has 
passed his last day in the castle. He is there because he 
has faithfully told a fellow-creature to leave off his sins 
and turn to God in repentance, so that he may have joy in 
the kingdom of God. Nothing of enmity was in his heart. 
He loved the pure and righteous laws of his God. He 
sought the reformation and salvation of a sinning brother. 
And here in his prison, suffering the enmity of those 
whom he warned to flee from the wrath to come, he has 
no heart to wish them any evil in return. He may pray, 
if any faith yet remains in their behalf, for the spiritual 
welfare of the king and his consort, that they may yet 
see their sin, and forsake it, and turn to God and so find a 
place in his kingdom. And now as his evening prayers 
have risen to God, and, committing his soul to his care 
for the night, he is about to rest in his slumbers, there 
come sounds of joy and revelry from the halls of the 
palace into his cell. He sees in imagination the festive 
halls of the king, and weeps at the thoughtless folly of 
sinners who take all their feasting and joy in this life — 
who substitute the pleasures of sense and appetite, in 



224 Tfyf Death of John the Baptist. 



their momentary and intoxicating excitements, for the 
deep and pure river of those spiritual joys that flow 
through the heart of the pious forever, from the love and 
friendship of God. Perhaps his thoughts turn towards 
the grave and eternity : for God is wont to draw nigh to 
his friends on their near approach to death. Perhaps 
these sounds of feasting carry forward his own mind to 
that happy paradise into which no sin shall ever enter, and 
where he shall feast, with Abraham and all the prophets 
and friends of God, upon the riches of divine knowledge 
and love forever. ' Thanks be to my God,' may he say, 
'that he has employed me in his service on the earth. 
Give me all my temporal fastings and present trials with 
God for my friend, rather than all these feastings of sin- 
ners to end in the wrath to come.' 

The hour of his eternal release is come. The execu- 
tioner, commissioned from the king, arrives. He turns 
the key. He opens the massive door, and stands before 
John, the herald of wrath from the queen, the herald of 
mercy from God. The prophet bows to the will of 
Providence. He bends his neck to the block. His head 
is severed from the body. And that night his soul is in 
Paradise ! 

The executioner " beheaded him in the prison and 
brought his head in a charger, and," in presence of the king 
and his guests, " gave it to the damsel." The promise of 
the king was now fulfilled, and this treasure, which she val- 
ued more than half the kingdom, she took with her from 
the room and " brought it to her mother." That head, 
what will she do with it? Will she insult those lips and 
that tongue that once stung her with reproof? But the 
soul is now far away in triumphant joys. That head — 
what will she do with it? Methinks it will stare upon 
her now a frown deeper than tongue and lips ever utter- 
ed. Methinks it will stare upon her in all her pleasures 
and in all her sufferings in this life — stare upon her at 
death — stare upon her in eternity. That head she never 
can dispose of. She may bury it ; but it will come up 
again to her waking and sleeping moments. She may 



The Death of John t lie Baptist. 225 



burn it; but it will have a resurrection again to her mind. 
That reproving head, and she, the guilty sinner, have 
now met, beyond the power of prison walls or bars ever 
to separate. The stain of blood has been affixed upon 
her memory and her conscience that ages will not wash 
away. 

But the body of John received kind testimonies of 
affection. " His disciples," having obtained permission, 
doubtless, of Herod, " came and took up the body and 
buried it." Their leader was now gone to heaven, and 
they could not wait on him any more for instruction. 
" And when they had buried the body, they went and 
told Jesus." They sought sympathy and instruction 
thenceforth from Jesus, the friend of their master. In 
this mysterious manner, the ministry of John was closed, 
and his true and faithful disciples transferred forever to 
the care and kingdom of Jesus. 

In respect to this scene recorded in the sacred history, 
I would remark, 

1. That above all the sad workings of human passion 
in the scene, the wisdom of an overruling providence is 
manifest in giving this extraordinary termination to the 
ministry of John the Baptist. 

The office of John was a peculiar one, as he was not 
merely to call the people to repentance, as the prophets 
before him had done, but to do it with distinct reference 
to their preparation for receiving the Messiah and inher- 
iting the blessings of his kingdom. He stood at the close 
of an old economy, to introduce the long foretold Mes- 
siah : as an intermediate link to bind it to the new. He 
was to labor as a zealous reformer to prepare the way of 
the Lord, to point him out to the people and introduce 
him into his ministry. From the very nature of his office, 
therefore, it was necessary that it should soon terminate ; 
that, as Jesus began his ministry and gathered around 
him disciples, this ministry of preparation should cease ; 
that John should not be gathering around him his disci- 
ples longer, as it would make a diversion of the people 
from their Great Deliverer, and set up an opposing sect 

30 



226 The Death of John the Baptist. 



in the land. He was but the morning star to harbinger 
the coming of the Messiah : and when Jesus arose to 
gather the people to his standard — when he arose to give 
light as a perpetual Sun of Righteousness, the star that 
was bright at the early dawn must fade away. 

How appropriate, then, was the close of his office. It 
was appropriate that, as a zealous reformer come in the 
spirit and power of Elijah, he should be willing to face 
another Ahab and provoke another Jezebel, that he should 
reprove wickedness on the throne as well as among the 
multitude : and it was appropriate that, as a reformer 
come to prepare the way of Jesus the Christ, he should in 
some way be withdrawn from his office soon after Jesus 
began by his teachings to draw around him his disciples. 
Mark now the course taken by an overruling providence. 
He is not, while moving forward in his ministry as a 
burning and shining light, giving joy and hope to many 
hearts, suddenly silenced by a command from heaven: 
for that would leave him lingering on earth among his 
waiting disciples, as one who had withdrawn his testi- 
mony and abated his zeal ; and might defeat, rather than 
consummate, the object of preparing them for the school 
of Christ. He is not allowed to die a natural death in 
the bosom of his family of disciples : for that would pre- 
vent him from receiving, as a zealous reformer, the appro- 
priate and glorious reward of martyrdom ; from riding, 
like another Elijah, on the fiery wheels of persecution to 
a distinguished seat in glory. Neither is he struck down 
by the hand of violence and persecution at once, while 
in the full career of his ministry and reputation among 
his disciples and the multitude. Providence has marked 
out another course, whereby gradually to diminish the 
interest of the people in his teachings ; to prepare him 
and his disciples, both the better to bow to the will and 
authority of Jesus ; and yet, to reward his just and holy 
life with the high honors and exalted crown of mar- 
tyrdom. 

The hand of divine providence leads him up to the 
court of Herod. Faithful to his high office, fearing not 



The Death of John the Baptist. 2 27 



the consequences that may arise to his own person, he 
reproves the king : warns him by repentance to flee from 
the wrath to come. How wonderful the result ! Brought 
thus into contact with the family of Herod, the instru- 
ments of providence are ready to execute its wise will 
concerning John. The queen resolves on his death, with 
an inappeasable hatred, which will never fail to be ready, 
when opportunity shall be given, to execute her purpose. 
The king is himself incensed, yet restrained by his con- 
science and by the tide of popular favor that surrounds 
his reprover : he refuses the entreaties of the queen for 
his instant death, and merely confines him in prison. 
John is thus withdrawn from his ministry : the field is left 
open to the ministry of Jesus, and, as his fame increases 
and that of John diminishes, the prisoner, in an hour of 
dejection, sends an embassy co seek, for himself and the 
followers that still cleave to him, and gain instruction 
from Jesus that comforts him and the more prepares them 
to transfer themselves to the care and instruction of that 
Great Teacher. The hour comes around when the queen 
seeing an opportunity to circumvent the king in the 
moments of intoxication, plots her nefarious scheme ; em- 
ploys the beauty and boldness of her daughter to aid her 
plans ; obtains from the king, amid his cups, a rashly 
unlimited promise and vow for her daughter ; and thus 
secures the accomplishment of her long harbored purpose 
of revenge. In this mysterious way, a wise and superin- 
tending providence awards to John at the close of his 
fastings and self-denial and preachings of repentance, the 
honor of ascending, before Jesus, to the kingdom of 
heaven to wear the bright crown of martyrdom : and his 
few true and faithful disciples yet remaining, that provi- 
dence hands over to the care of his successor, but supe- 
rior in office. From the scene of bloodshed and the death 
of their leader, they go, with aching hearts, to pour their 
sorrows into the sympathizing bosom of Jesus. To him 
and his school of spiritual instructions they thenceforth 
cleave : and thus, without schism and rent, from the co- 
existence of separate religious schools of disciples in the 



228 The Death of John the Baptist. 



land, all is peacefully transferred to the care and instruc- 
tion of the Heavenly Teacher, Christ Jesus. Thus prov- 
idence ever interweaves its own plans into the endlessly 
intricate maze of human interests and passions ; and suc- 
ceeds, even amid the darkest conflicts of human malice, to 
fulfill its counsels of wisdom and love. 

2. The portion of history before us well illustrates the 
nature and foundation of decision of character. 

Decision as a trait of character includes the formation 
of distinct purposes in the life, and a steady and unbend- 
ing adherence to their execution. It is founded, either on 
strict integrity in purpose or in utter recklessness ; on 
virtuous regard to justice towards God and man, or the 
selfishness that is regardless of both. But he who aims 
at the middle path between these is the double-minded 
man, who is unstable in all his ways. 

This subject is very clearly illustrated in the principal 
characters that figure in this scene. John the Baptist is 
decisive on virtuous principle. He maintains in his heart 
integrity of purpose towards God and man. He has but 
one errand on the earth ; to publish and maintain the law 
and honor of God, and prepare his fellow-men by repent- 
ance for happiness in the kingdom of God. And all the 
steps of his pilgrimage he directs to accomplish that one 
great errand. He denies himself the luxuries of life : he 
fasts in the desert : he proclaims, alike fearlessly before 
all, the great duty of repentance. The common people 
in their fickleness ; the scribes and Pharisees in their 
pride of sanctity and learning; Herod and Herodias on 
their throne of guilt and power ; move him not one 
moment aside from his high purpose of calling men to 
respect the laws of heaven and to prepare for the blessings 
to be brought by the Messiah. He has one holy aim and 
purpose : and he cannot be turned about by the winds of 
human passions. He leans back on an upright conscience 
and a God of righteousness ; and the foundations of his 
strength are immovable. 

Herodias, on the other hand, the proud and revengeful, 
is decisive through utter recklessness of justice to others. 



The Death of John the Baptist. 229 



Her purpose was to exalt herself to power and pleasure, 
and for this one end she formed her plans, regardless of 
the laws of God or opinions of mankind. She sought the 
pleasure and pomp of a throne at Tiberias. Nor was she 
moved from the purpose by any moral obstacles in her 
way. To gain that place, she scruples not to abandon her 
first betrothed husband and the father of her child. She 
hesitates not to make the king of Galilee put away from 
him his faithful wife. She shrinks not from encountering 
the guilt and odium of a life of mutual crime. And when 
she has gained that place, it is her fixed purpose to keep 
it and enjoy it, whatever obstacles may arise. And when 
John, by his stern inculcation of moral duty, begins to 
work on the conscience of her husband to put her away, 
instead of yielding for one moment to this troubler of 
her prospects, she adopts at once the fell purpose to 
silence him forever, by taking away his life : and, unmoved 
through the delay of a year's waiting, embraces the first 
opportunity to accomplish her purpose, and succeeds to 
bring before her in a supposed triumph his trunkless head. 
This is the decision of utter recklessness : the only deci- 
sion that remains for those, who will not with simplicity 
and integrity of purpose yield themselves to the service 
of God — a decision, that must sooner or later dash the 
subject of it on the rocks and barriers of eternal righteous- 
ness. 

Herod, again, stands forth on the scene as the indecisive 
man, whose regard to justice on the one hand, and regard 
to his private and selfish pleasures on the other, are ever 
brought into conflict, because neither of them is allowed 
to take the supreme rule : and, thus in perpetual conflict, 
the) T prevent him from having a definite will to which he 
immovably adheres. At the time he imprisons John, he 
would gratify his anger and that of his wife. He loves 
his pleasure too much, to have it marred by this faithful 
preacher. Yet he cannot go forward to take the life of 
the prophet, for he still reverences him too much as a just 
man and a holy, and fears the people too much to have his 
own wa}-. And again, when, by the arts of his wife and 



230 The Death of John the Baptist. 



daughter, he has bound himself before his court to execute 
John, he would save him, but dare not. He cannot take 
the unshaken purpose to save the prophet's life at all 
hazards, regardless of his rash promise and oath ; regard- 
less of the opinions of the court and his queen: for his 
mind is not made up to fear God above all and follow the 
prophet's warnings. So he is compelled, against his will 
as it were, to slay the prophet. At one time he would 
slay John, through his love of his own pleasures ; but 
fears John and the people too much. At another, he 
would save John, through regard to him and the people ; 
but fears the queen and her daughter and the nobles too 
much. 

Into one of these three classes mankind ever divide 
themselves : the decisive on virtuous principle, who are 
lifted up by regard to the right above all momentary and 
changing considerations : the decisive on utter recklessness 
of right, in pursuit of selfish pleasure : and the vacillating, 
who can never make up their minds decisively to either 
course. 

3. The history sets before us the deceitfulness of un- 
lawful pleasures. 

Pleasures that are unlawful, however smiling and 
insinuating their appearance and promises, infringe on 
some fixed laws of heaven ordained for the welfare of 
individuals or of society, and necessarily bring back a 
recompense of guilt and woe. To seek for pleasure by 
violating either the physical, mental or moral laws 
ordained for our welfare, is a course that can end only in 
disappointment : for these laws are walls of everlasting 
strength, and if we dash against them, we ourselves must 
break down, — not they. 

The beautiful Salome, moving before the king on the 
night of the feast in the dance, stands forth as it were the 
personification of the treachery that lurks behind the 
promises of sinful pleasure. Could the king have thought, 
as he looked upon her fascinating smiles, that she medi- 
tated anything but to gratify the guests of her father, and 
give him pleasure in the feast ? All is fair and winning to 



The Death of John the Baptist. 231 



the eye. Yet that beauteous form conceals a treacherous 
heart, that seeks not to please the father so much as to 
win from him a dreadful favor. She takes advantage of 
his hour of weakness, that she may fulfill a fell purpose of 
her mother's, and draw the king into the commission of a 
horrid crime. Her happy smiles of pleasure but de- 
ceived him, and led him onward, in vile subservience to 
plots of murder. 

I say, she personifies the deceit and treachery of the 
promises that attend on sinful pleasures. 

Thus treacherous are the promises of the wine cup — 
they were so to the king. He took the exhilarating 
draught, that he might obtain pleasure. He thought he 
saw nothing in the cup but innocent hilarity. But there 
lurked the demon of intoxication. There lurked the poi- 
son that was to work on his physical, intellectual and 
moral nature, to turn him into the brute, without reason 
or reflection. His brain is maddened : his wisdom and 
prudence forsake him ; and he becomes an accomplice 
with murderers. Such is the brief, sad history of many a 
life of intemperance, wretchedness and crime. 

Such treachery too was there in that first dream of un- 
hallowed pleasure which united the fates and fortune of 
the guilty pair. Herodias seeks to find the pleasure of 
luxury, of lust and of pride, in living with Herod in his 
palace. Doubtless, as she forsook her first husband, all 
the future appeared to her proud and ambitious mind as 
the dream of enchantment. Uninterrupted joy and honor 
is to be her happy lot. But, while indulging in this 
dream of pleasure, she is warring with the laws of hea- 
ven : and up to her palace, on his mission of righteous- 
ness and mercy, comes John the Baptist to utter those 
laws. Now is she agitated, as she still clings to her 
place at the side of Herod. The venom of revenge poi- 
sons her peace. She makes her daughter and the king 
accomplices in the murder of the prophet. And never 
after does she prosper. Thus did those fair dreams of 
pleasure deceive her, and lead her on to many crimes and 
cruelties in warring against the laws of heaven : to hate 



232 The Death of John the Baptist. 



the holy prophet of the Lord ; to compromise the 
modesty and honesty of her daughter ; to abuse the 
weakness and confidence of her husband ; to indulge her 
own heart in deadly revenge : and thus fill her soul, in all 
its future remembrances, with the elements of remorse 
and wretchedness. 

So it is ever with all the promises of sin. Satan, wicked 
men around us, our own hearts, may trust in them awhile ; 
but they are promises set up against the laws and engage- 
ments of God. He will fulfill his own promises and 
threatenings, and scatter forever all who trust in lies. 

4. Finally : We may learn the folly of employing force 
and violence against those who seek the repentance and 
reformation of their fellow-men. 

Reformers who set up to reclaim men from their sins, 
and call them to walk in the laws of heaven, have a task 
that is not welcome to our weak and perverse nature. 
They are generally, like John the Baptist, true men and 
honest, just men and holy. Otherwise they would 
not apply themselves with earnestness to their severe 
task. Men love quiet and ease in their pleasures. 
Whether their pleasures before God are lawful or 
unlawful, they would pursue them without any moral 
disturbances or hindances. Agitation is their dread. 
But this world is not intended, chiefly, for pleasure; 
but as a world of probation, in which men are to be 
reclaimed from sin and trained to holiness, that so they 
may escape the wrath to come, and inherit pure and fade- 
less happiness in the holy and heavenly kingdom of God. 
Reformers therefore, the hearty and true, who set up the 
law of God as their rule, are engaged in the work of God ; 
and, whether they are judicious in the world's estimation 
or not, it is wiser surely to repent of our sins than to 
blame the zeal of our reprovers : wiser to reason with 
them, if we deem them wrong, than violently to assault 
their persons. This moral lesson is taught us in the his- 
tory of the Baptist. 

This zealous reformer was a just man and holy, as even 
Herod acknowledged. He approved of the wise and 



The Death of John the Baptist. 233 



holy laws of God. He sought the honor of God and the 
welfare of man, in his zealous advocacy of repentance. 
But his agitating reproof administered at the palace was 
unwelcome. Instead of yielding up their sin, the royal 
pair assail the prophet ; exclude him from the field of his 
labors by force of imprisonment ; and with murderous 
revenge take away his life. But have they gained by 
their violence ? The prophet is calm, in the flow of pious 
and virtuous affections in his heart ; in the conscious 
sense of having pursued the highest welfare of his fellow- 
creatures in his labors ; and in the hope of inheriting the 
favor of the eternal God in his kingdom — a joy beyond 
the reach of any violence from men or devils. 

But how is it with the guilty trio in the palace ? Can 
their hatred of John, their imprisonment of him, their 
murder of him, alter the laws of heaven ; annihilate their 
own crimes ; or prepare the way for future peace and 

j°y ? 

Who would not sooner take the place of John in his 
prison on the night of his execution, than that of either of 
the guilty inmates of the palace during the feasting? He 
went up that night from his cell to take a crown nobler 
far than that of Herod — the martyr's crown of everlasting 
glory. 

Salome and the queen are taking their feast of revenge 
over the platter that holds the lifeless head of John. 
Poor triumph of an hour, that embitters the peace of the 
king ; that stains their consciences with guilt ; and that 
sends an accuser up to the Heavenly Altar to cry, " How 
long, O Lord, dost thou not avenge our blood on them 
that dwell on the earth ? " If we may believe the report 
of profane history, vengeance did not long wait. The 
fair Salome, while walking across a frozen river, it is 
reported, broke through, and fell in such a way as that, 
on the return of the parted fragments of ice, as she rose, 
her head was severed from the body. And Herod and 
Herodias were called, by imperial authority at Rome, 
away from their palace, and sent in exile to Lyons, to end 
their days in want and disgrace : and all went at death to 

3i 



234 The Death of John the Baptist. 



meet their victim at the bar of eternal righteousness, and 
receive the just award of their deeds. 

Such is the folly of persecuting the just, who labor to 
give efficacy to the laws of God. Inspiration has declared, 
" He that justifieth the wicked, and he that condemneth 
the just, even they both are an abomination to the Lord." 
Doubly hateful in his sight, therefore, must that man be, 
who combines both crimes in one : who upholds the 
wicked in their sins, by smiting down with violence their 
just and faithful reprovers. 



THE RIGHTEOUS TO LIVE HEREAFTER WITHIN 
THE SCENES OF A MATERIAL UNIVERSE. 



II. PETER III: 13. 



Nevertheless, we, according to his promise, look for new heavens and 
A new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness. 

The apostle had just spoken of the destruction of the 
present world by fire at the close of the probation of our 
race, when all shall be summoned from their graves for 
judgment. In that day, " the elements shall melt with fer- 
vent heat, the earth also and the works that are therein 
shall be burned up." But shall the saints of God have 
no dwelling ? Are the material worlds and suns of the 
creation literally to be annihilated, and are their souls to 
wander forth homeless, shelterless, on the void expanse of 
infinite space and duration? The apostle did not thus 
present the last conflagration, as the total annihilation of 
matter and material worlds. He set before his fellow 
Christians a more glorious edifice to arise from the ruins, 
new heavens and a new earth, fitted to be the immortal 
abode of righteous beings. The promise of the Lord 
assured him that the object of the last conflagration was 
not destruction, but the process of purgation, repairing 
and reconstruction ; in order that, the wicked being gath- 
ered out of his kingdom, the righteous might have a pure 
and joyous residence for their immortality. 

My design now is to set before you the evidence, that, 
after the final judgment, the righteous are to have for 
eternity their dwelling still within the bounds of a mate- 
rial universe. There can be but two positions taken on 
the general subject, either that the material worlds are 
to be annihilated, or are to continue forever ; that the 
visible universe is to cease utterly, or is perpetually to 



236 The Righteous to Live Hereafter within 



remain; that the righteous are to float forever through 
utterly empty space, or are to live still within the anchor- 
age ground of a physical creation. It is no part of my 
present design to enter into any particular theory of a 
future physical creation, among the many that have been 
or that might be broached on the subject: but simply to 
advocate the future existence of at least some physical 
creation, as the abode of the righteous. 

I would first call your attention then to the fact that we 
have no positive evidence to show that the universe of 
matter is ever to be annihilated. There is no evidence of 
such annihilation furnished us, either by reason or revela- 
tion. Reason furnishes none from secondary causes or 
from analogy. In all the researches of man into the 
chemical and astronomical structure of the universe, no 
causes have been found which are adequate to the work 
of annihilation. The utmost which can be predicted 
from known secondary causes, is that there may possibly 
occur some great changes in the world or the solar sys- 
tem : but there is nothing which indicates, in the least, the 
effect of annihilation. Indeed, all the researches of reason 
lead us up to the conclusion, that the annihilation of mat- 
ter, if it ever occurs, can be the result only of that imme- 
diate and direct omnipotence of the Creator, which first 
called it into existence. Is it then the will of the Creator, 
to annihilate by his omnipotent power the worlds he has 
made ? If we reason from the analogy of a past provi- 
dence, it would seem, from the facts as evinced in the 
geological history of the world, that great convulsions 
and changes have passed over it, which have been only 
preparatory to its improvement and better subservience 
to the accommodation of its inhabitants, increasing in the 
scale from the lowest animals to the race of man ; and, 
so far as reason can argue from the past, it would seem 
probable that the world, if carried through any great 
convulsions in the future, would be still spared in its 
existence and improved for the accommodation of beings 
more exalted still, or for man himself in a more exalted 
state of being than now. 



the Scenes of a Material Universe. 237 



But from reason, we pass to the book in which this 
great Being has given us a revelation of his designs. Has 
he told us in this book, that he is to annihilate the Avorlds ? 
Here again I assert, that revelation furnishes us no evi- 
dence of such a catastrophe. There are many passages 
which speak of a great event to take place in the physi- 
cal universe, at the close of the probation of our race — 
the time of the general judgment — represented as de- 
struction by conflagration. Yet if we examine these 
passages carefully, inquiring what that destruction is and 
how far it extends, we shall see that they do not touch 
tjie question of the utter annihilation of the worlds. The 
most explicit of all, is that which immediately precedes 
our text. There is no doubt in the case, that the material 
world is spoken of, and a description given of the de- 
struction which it is to undergo at the period of the 
judgment. The destruction is here ascribed to the agency 
of fire. But fire, whatever destruction it might accom- 
plish in the present forms of the matter of the globe, is 
not an agent to destroy its substance, or to destroy that 
centripetal force which binds it together in a world. But, 
if we pass from the nature of the agent employed to the 
effects which are specified by Peter as resulting, we do not 
come to annihilation. There are three results which he 
specifies : the heavens being on fire are dissolved — the ele- 
ments are melted with fervent heart, — the earth, and the 
structures of divine and human skill that are in it, are con- 
sumed. We have seen substances dissolved in gases or 
smoke, and passing off from their former place ; we have 
seen the solid materials of the globe melted down into 
flowing and liquid masses ; w T e have seen the forms of 
nature or art consumed in the fires: — yet in none of these 
things have we witnessed the annihilation of matter. All 
the results therefore which Peter ascribes to the last con- 
flagration, involve not the annihilation of matter. The 
matter still subsists, notwithstanding the conflagration, to 
be moulded into new combinations and forms, and for new 
purposes, if such shall be the will of the Creator. There 
is one result of the conflagration mentioned by Peter, 



238 The Righteous to Live Hereafter within 



which, however, deserves more attentive consideration. 
" The heavens," he says in one place, "being on fire shall 
be dissolved," and in another place, " shall pass away with 
a great noise." Now if this were spoken of the whole 
starry heavens, that they are to pass away, it might seem 
that the description referred to the total annihilation of the 
present universe. But the starry heavens, it is clear from 
the context, are not intended. For Peter had introduced 
the whole description, by referring to a former heavens 
and earth standing in the water and out of the water, 
destroyed by the deluge: and the heavens and the earth, 
which are now, being reserved unto fire. The heavens 
here spoken of consequently must be those which imme- 
diately surround our globe, the aerial, not the sidereal. 
The translation given by Rosenmiiller to the phrase, 'the 
heavens and the earth ' in this chapter, accords with 
this, viz : " the earth with its atmostphere." The truth is, 
the eye of the apostle was fixed on this world as the 
great scene of conflagration, this world which is reserved 
unto fire, against the day of judgment and perdition of 
ungodly men. His description therefore is optical — the 
scene is presented, as it would appear to the eye of a 
spectator on the globe ; these skies are filled with the 
crackling flames and smoke, before which all the fowls of 
heaven and the living swarms of the insect tribes that 
move in it are destroyed, and for the time, day and night, 
the sun and stars, disappear, — this solid globe is melted 
down to one liquid mass ; and, in the burning cauldron, 
sinks consumed every vestige of the works of God and 
man that once adorned it. But if the description were 
literally extended to all the starry worlds of this immense 
universe, our globe would constitute, in so vast a con- 
flagration, but a small and trifling flame, and it would be 
against all the proportions of harmony and truth, to pre- 
sent it as the principal and grand scene of dissolution. I 
see therefore, in this description of Peter, no other de- 
struction than that which is occasioned by fire, and that 
scene of destruction, too, confined to this one globe and 
the contents of its atmosphere. No evidence is furnished 



the Scenes of a Material Universe. 239 



in this description of the annihilation, even of this globe, 
much less of this solar system or the immense starry heav- 
ens. Again, John in his first epistle, chap, ii : 17, asserts, 
" the world passeth away, and the Inst thereof." The 
world here I understand in the moral sense, to denote 
"worldly men:" these pass away, and with them the ob- 
jects of their lusts. In which sense nothing more is asser- 
ted, than that death puts an end to the gratification of 
their worldly lusts, or that, to them, all the objects of 
their happiness are transitory. Again, the apostle Paul, 
in his first epistle to the Corinthians, chap, vii : 31, 
asserts: " the fashion of this world passeth away." The 
" scheme," the plan, of this world is here asserted to be 
transient. This declaration again may be interpreted in 
the moral sense — that the state of man on the earth is 
ever unstable and changing. If on the other hand it is 
interpreted in the physical sense, then it supports the con- 
clusion of a certain writer, that not the " matter and sub- 
stance of the world, but the mode and form of it, pass away ; 
for, after this world is burnt up, a new one as to form and 
fashion will arise, in much more beauty and glory." 
There is a passage again in the book of Job, which asserts 
of the dead, that the) 7 will not arise " till the heavens be 
no more." This phrase may refer to the destruction of 
the world at the last day, in which case what we have 
already said of the last conflagration, in its relation to the 
heavens, is to be taken into consideration — that the heav- 
ens in such descriptions are taken, not literally for the 
whole starry universe, but optically for the atmosphere 
and surrounding appendages of the globe. But there is 
reason to suppose that the phrase is here used in the 
rhetorical sense, as we shall presently find it used in other 
instances, to express a thing that the writer is confident 
will never take place. We have an instance of this rhetori- 
cal and tropical sense in Matthew, chap, v: 18, "till 
heaven and earth pass away, one jot and one tittle shall 
not pass from the law," meaning that the law never will 
be impaired. If this is the use of the phrase in Job, then 
the declaration refers not at all to the future resurrection 



240 The Righteous to Live Hereafter within 



to another life, which is to take place at the end of the 
present plan of the world, but simply to a return to this 
present life itself; that the dead are never to come back 
again to this present scene of trial ; they are forever 
removed from it by death. That is, the heavens will as 
soon vanish as the dead come back again to the scenes 
and occupations of the present life. This interpreta- 
tion accords with the whole drift of what in the im- 
mediate context precedes and follows. Another instance 
of the tropical use of such phraseology, is to be found in 
Jeremiah, xxxi : 35, &c. "Thus saith the Lord, which 
giveth the sun for a light by day and the ordinances of the 
moon and the stars for a light by night — if those ordinan- 
ces depart from before me, saith the Lord, then the seed 
of Israel also shall cease from being a nation before ' me 
forever." This tropical use of phraseology relating to 
the destruction of the heavens and earth, it is obvious, 
proceeds on the strong impression we have of the perma- 
nency of heaven and earth, and all its force and appro- 
priateness are lost, if we suppose there is the least reference 
made to their actual destruction as ever to take place. 
The following passages may be classed, either under the 
tropical use of phraseology or under the literal ; and with- 
out deciding which, it is enough to show that neither 
interpretation establishes the conclusion of utter annihila- 
tion. Isaiah li : 6, " Lift up your eyes to the heavens, 
and look upon the earth beneath ; for the heavens shall 
vanish away like smoke, and the earth shall wax old like 
a garment : but my salvation shall be forever, and my 
righteousness shall not be abolished." Vitringa remarks, 
the prophet does not here declare absolutely that the 
heavens and earth are to perish, but comparatively, in 
hyperbolical speech, that the heavens and earth, if either, 
will sooner fail than the salvation promised to his people. 
God will sooner destroy all the physical laws he has 
instituted, and break down all the worlds of his creation 
than violate his promise. Ps. cii : 26, 27, quoted Heb. i : 
11, 12. " They," the heavens and the earth " shall perish, 
but thou remainest, and they all shall wax old as doth a 



the Scenes of a Material Universe. 241 



garment, and as a vesture shalt thou fold them up and 
thev shall be changed, but thou art the same, &c." Rosen- 
miiller gives this interpretation : ' should all these things 
perish, thou wilt still remain.' But if we interpret these 
passages in the literal sense, and not the tropical, that 
the time is to come when these great changes shall pass 
upon the heavens and earth, that these things will change 
their present forms : they can refer to no other events 
than those which are so directly and explicitly described 
by Peter : and according to this full and explicit descrip- 
tion, they are changes by the agency of fire, changes in 
the form and arrangement of matter, not the utter anni- 
hilation of its substance. 

There is one more use still of phraseology relating to 
the destruction of the heavens and the earth, which is to 
be found in the Scriptures — that of prophetic imagery. 
According to Lowth " the prophets derived the materials 
of this imagery from the chaos and creation, which compose 
the first pages of the sacred history. As the sun, moon 
and stars are there represented as ruling the day, so they 
are made in prophecies relating to the fate of empires, to 
represent the destruction of the reigning powers. If the 
subject be the destruction of the Jewish empire by the 
Chaldeans, or a strong denunciation of ruin against the 
enemies of Israel, it is depicted in exactly the same colors, 
as if universal nature were about to relapse into the 
primeval chaos." Isaiah thus speaks of the ruin of the 
enemies of Israel, "All the host of heaven shall be dissolv- 
ed, and the heavens shall be rolled together as a scroll, 
and all their hosts shall fall down." Joel thus foretells 
the destruction of the enemies of Israel. " The sun and 
the moon shall be darkened, and the stars shall withdraw 
their shining, the heavens and the earth shall shake." 
Similar is the language of Christ, in predicting the de- 
struction of Jerusalem : " The sun shall be darkened, and 
the moon shall not give her light, and the stars shall fall 
from heaven, and the powers of the heavens shall be 
shaken." All this prophetic imagery which is intended 
to describe merely things in the political or ecclesiastical 

32 



242 The Righteous to Live Hereafter within 



world, it is clear, can furnish us no evidence of what is to 
be the fate of the material universe. 

The conclusion, to which this examination of the Scrip- 
tures brings us, is the following : that in all the phraseol- 
ogy relating to the destruction of the heavens and the 
earth, contained in the Scriptures, — for our examination has 
exhausted those uses, — there is no evidence that it is the 
design of God to annihilate the material creation : that 
the passages may be arranged under the heads, of pro- 
phetic imagery, rhetorical figure, or literal description, 
either moral or physical ; that of these, only the latter 
class afford any testimony as to the fate of the material 
creation ; and that from these, no more can be learned 
than the destruction of this globe and its surrounding 
ether by fire — a destruction of form, arrangement, or- 
ganic structures, human edifices — that which marks the 
present mode and scheme of the world — but not the de- 
struction of its substance. 

If, then, reason discerns no adequate cause in the 
material universe to effect its annihilation, and must 
refer the subject to the decision of the divine will, of 
which, independently of revelation, it can know nothing ; 
and if, in the revelation which this great Being has given 
us of his designs, he has nowhere taught us that it is his 
design to annihilate the material universe, it is clear that 
we have no positive evidence whatever to show that the 
material universe will ever be annihilated. 

Let us see now how far this consideration carries us. 
We have at least cut off all positive evidence of the anni- 
hilation of the material universe. But, so far, the conclu- 
sion is negative only. We have no authority positively 
to believe in its annihilation. But we are not, on the 
other hand, authorized in the positive belief of its per- 
petuity. Yet we have shown at least that, if there is any 
positive evidence of its perpetuity from other sources, 
that evidence is unembarrassed and free, and is to be 
allowed all its force. More than this even. The pre- 
sumption, at this stage of the argument, is in favor of the 
perpetuity of the material universe. The material uni- 



the Scenes of a Material Universe. 243 



verse now exists. All the destruction which revelation 
attests is to come upon it, does not amount to its anni- 
hilation. It is therefore to exist, notwithstanding- such 
destruction. It is possible, indeed, that God intends 
ultimately its annihilation, without giving us any inti- 
mation of his purpose. But is this probable ? Is it not 
probable, that, if it is continued after the judgment at all, 
it is to be continued forever ? But I now verge on another 
consideration, which I allege, in connection with the first, 
as positive evidence of the perpetuity of the material 
universe. 

2. That the state of redeemed men after the judgment 
is to be a permanent one for immortality. The descrip- 
tions of the Scriptures are full, that the future inheritance 
of the saints is permanent, incorruptible, and unfading in 
its glory. Now if the righteous in their immortal state 
are to be totally severed from a material universe, they 
must be severed from it, either by its annihilation or by 
their removal beyond its bounds. 

If they are totally severed from the material universe 
by its annihilation, then this annihilation must take place, 
either at the period of their entrance upon immortality 
or at some period afterwards. But at the time of their 
entrance on immortality, they cannot be separated from 
the material universe by means of its annihilation : for it 
is not then annihilated, as we have already seen. The 
destruction, which immediately precedes their admission 
into their immortal state, is simply that of this world, and 
that, not the annihilation of its substance. If they are 
ever severed from the material universe, therefore, by its 
annihilation, they must thus be severed from it at some 
period afterwards. But how can this comport with all 
the many declarations of Scripture, which represent their 
state to be permanent, to be incorruptible, never to fade 
away — to be undiminished and undiminishing in its ingre- 
dients of glory ? If, on their entrance upon an immortal 
inheritance, their dwelling should be assigned them 
within the bounds, amid the beauties and glories of a 
material creation, there would be doubtless many sources 



244 Th? Righteous to Live Hereafter within 



of joy and praise, arising out of these relations of their 
being : and could it comport with the permanent and 
unfading nature of the inheritance, which had always 
been held out to their expectations in the promises, ever 
afterwards to eject them from these habitations of joy ; to 
strip them of these sources of blessing ; and throw them 
forth as wanderers on mere empty space ? 

From the immutable permanence of the inheritance to 
be given to the righteous therefore, we infer that they are 
not to be severed in their immortal state from a material 
universe by means of its annihilation ; if the severance 
therefore is to take place, it must be not by its annihila- 
tion, but by means of their own removal beyond, its 
bounds. 

But if they are severed from it by removal beyond its 
bounds, this severance must take place, if at all, at their 
first entrance on immortality, while as yet the material 
creation exists : otherwise, if it takes place after their 
entrance into its bounds and within its glories, whether 
the material creation be continued forever afterwards or 
not, the) 7 must experience the same change in their subse- 
quent removal and exile, which we have already con- 
sidered as incompatible with the unfading glories of their 
inheritance. Are they then removed beyond the bounds 
of the material universe, on their first entrance upon im- 
mortality ? This is the only question that remains. The 
consideration of the unchanging state of the righteous in 
their immortality, does not alone enable us to answer this 
question : yet, if it can be shown that the full glories of 
their immortality have any dependence on their connec- 
tion with the material universe, the question will be met ; 
and the proper evidence furnished, that they will not be 
removed from the bounds of the material universe on 
their entrance upon their full immortality. The present 
argument has gone no farther than to show that, if they 
are connected with a material universe on their first 
entrance into eternity, then it is not consistent with the 
testimony to the permanency of their immortal state, that 
the connection should afterwards cease. But to render 



the Scenes of a Material Universe. 245 



the argument complete, I now advance another con- 
sideration. 

3. That the preparation of the righteous for immor- 
tality, made within the bounds of the material creation, 
and the fact of the resurrection of their bodies at the 
period of entering on their immortality, show that the 
full and complete glory of their immortal state depends, 
in part at least, on their connection with a material uni- 
verse. They are fitted for, and enter on, their immortal 
state, not as disembodied spirits, but as spirits clothed 
with a bodily organism to connect them with a material 
universe. 

There are mariy and vague declamations often made 
about matter and spirit, as if the one were essentially vile 
and the other essentially pure ; and as if the great effort 
of man should be to extricate himself from the one and 
absorb his being in the other. But this is not consistent 
with the order of creation, which assigns to man these 
diverse parts of his complex being ; nor with the order of 
providence, which assigns him the duties of preparation 
for immortality in this complex nature ; or with the 
awards of the future, which place him, with this complex 
nature still, on the retributions of eternity. The truth is, 
that this organic life of ours, which is the necessary 
medium of our connection with the material universe, 
though the inlet to us of many temptations, (as are also 
the constituent elements of our minds,) is not the source 
of temptation alone : it ministers to us many pleasures 
which are pure ; it subserves the purposes of our mental 
and moral education ; it opens to us many beautiful, sub- 
lime, instructive lessons in the works of our Creator. 
And whatever fine spun theories any may propound, of 
literal abstraction from matter and literal absorption in 
God, our grand duty and grand preparation for immor- 
tality is, to consecrate both body and spirit to God — to 
render this organic life and our connection with the 
material world subservient to our discipline for a higher 
life. And though this present structure of flesh and 
blood is not sufficiently refined for an immortal life, yet 



246 The Righteous to Live Hereafter within 



utterly to divest us of any, and to send us forth mere dis- 
embodied spirits upon empty space, would be to create a 
chasm between our present and future life too great and 
devastating to minister to our perfection and highest joy. 
It would be like the devastation, though not so great, of 
annihilating the souls which we have here consecrated to 
Christ, and sending us forth upon the theater of eternity 
with only the animal senses of an organic life. Man is not 
complete here without both ; nor his education for eter- 
nity complete, without the consecration of both to Christ ; 
nor will his joy in eternity be complete, without the con- 
tinuance, the refinement, and perfection of both in that 
higher state. For this reason, the intermediate state of 
the soul between death and the resurrection is unfitted to 
the full perfection of redeemed man ; and revelation 
teaches us, that he is not to enter on the full glories of 
immortality till, by resurrection, he is invested with a 
body strong, incorruptible and glorious. 

Can it be then that man, educated for an immortal state 
in the body and within the material creation, and raised 
again after death, with a pure ethereal bod) 7 , for entrance 
on that state, shall be utterly removed, on his entrance 
into it, from the material universe ? Does not the pre- 
paration of this life and the resurrection of the body 
furnish evidence, that God designs the continuance of a 
material system still, and the residence of man during his 
immortality somewhere within its bounds ? The doctrine 
of the resurrection of the body teaches us, at least, that 
redeemed man will have an organic structure to add in 
some way to the joys of his immortality — that some 
medium of connection with a material universe will still 
be attached to his being. But of what use will be this 
structure, if not to constitute relations between him and 
such a universe — if not to give him, within the bounds of 
such a universe, those materials of joy and praise which 
arise from the Creator's works of wisdom and love, and 
for which he has been educated in the scenes of this life ? 

To this course of argument in favor of the conclusion^ 
that after the judgment the righteous are to have their 



the Scenes of a- Material Universe. 247 



dwelling within the bounds of the material universe, I 
will only add the positive testimony of revelation. 

I observe therefore 4, That revelation affords us posi- 
tive testimony in favor of the conclusion. " Neverthe- 
less," says Peter — notwithstanding the conflagration of 
the world at the last day — " according to his promise, we 
look for new heavens and a new earth wherein dwelleth 
righteousness." There can be no doubt here that the 
apostle speaks literally of a material creation. He had 
spoken of the heavens and earth that were, which were 
once desolated by the waters. He had spoken of the 
heavens and earth that now are, reserved unto fire. And 
after describing their destruction by fire, he immediately 
adds : " Nevertheless we, according to his promise, look 
for new heavens and a new earth wherein dwelleth right- 
eousness." Can there be a doubt here that the descrip- 
tion is literal ? — so far, at least, as to imply a local and 
material habitation — that the world, once purgated of the 
wicked by water, and then purgated and renewed by fire, 
is thenceforth to be the delightful habitation of the right- 
eous ? Or, if we consider, as some have done, the catas- 
trophe of the last conflagration as still more extensive, yet 
the reconstruction of a world with its heavens is clearly 
asserted as literal, — to be the dwelling-place of the right- 
eous — so that the residence of the redeemed, still within 
the bounds of a physical universe, is obviously intended 
by the apostle ; who would not send forth the purified 
and redeemed inhabitants of this world from their burn- 
ing dwelling, homeless and shelterless, as wanderers 
through infinite space ; but plant them in a purer and 
more glorious world, under serener skies, without dis- 
turbance or convulsion more, to be happily employed 
with their vigorous and immortal powers in studying the 
works and ways — the wisdom and goodness of God ; in 
assisting each other in growing up into his likeness for 
ever ; and in forever uniting in acts of high devotion and 
praise before the manifestations of his heavenly majesty. 

This expectation of which Peter speaks, he asserts, is 
founded on divine promise. " We, according to his pro- 



248 The Righteous to Live" Hereafter within 



mise." Now Isaiah, in prophetic imagery, had spoken of 
the change of the Jewish economy and the introduction 
of the kingdom of Christ on the earth, at his first coming, 
in such language, — " Behold I create new heavens and a 
new earth : and the former shall not be remembered nor 
come into mind. But be ye glad and rejoice forever in 
that which I create, for behold I create Jerusalem a 
rejoicing and her people a joy." Yet even here, while 
looking forward to the first coming of Christ, and the 
blessings diffused by his gospel on this earth, the prophet 
might have dimly discerned, in still remoter distance, his 
second coming to dwell with his redeemed, and have seen 
the distant realities of the last conflagration, and the 
reconstruction of a new world and heavens for the ever- 
lasting dwelling of his purified and triumphant people. 
Jesus Christ, while on earth, frequently spoke of his 
coming to judge the world, to gather from among the 
redeemed all the wicked, that he might cast them out into 
punishment, and to dwell with all the redeemed in their 
immortal life. And he told his disciples, that at the time 
of the renovation of all things, when he should come in 
his glory, they should sit on twelve thrones. And no 
doubt, in the promise of the resurrection of his followers, 
and their union to him in the heavenly state, there was 
conveyed to the minds of his apostles the idea of some 
abode, not perishable, fitted to their new organization 
and life, where they should dwell in the immediate pres- 
ence of God, amid the bright and full manifestations of 
his majesty. The idea which the apostles received from 
their Saviour, however, is gathered distinctly from the 
writings of two of them, Peter and John. Peter says to 
the Christians to whom he wrote, as if he had often told 
them so in his preaching about Jesus Christ, " We, 
according to his promise, look for new heavens and a new 
earth." But John, in the Revelations, has more fully 
completed the sketch of those glorious scenes, which 
Isaiah dimly saw and which Christ foretold. Chapter 
xxi : 1-4. " And I saw a new heaven and a new earth : 
for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away ; 



the Scenes of a Material Universe. 249 



and there was no more sea. And I John saw the holy 
city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heav- 
en, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And 
I heard a great voice out of heaven, saying, Behold the 
tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with 
them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall 
be with them and be their God. And God shall wipe 
away all tears from their eyes ; and there shall be no 
more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall there 
be any more pain ; for the former things are passed away. 
And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold I make all 
things new." This was the last vision of John, which 
presented to him the happy state of the righteous after 
the close of the last judgment, and after the casting of the 
wicked into the lake of fire, which is the second death ; 
and the remainder of the chapter, with the chapter that 
follows it, and closes the book, is occupied, principally, 
in setting forth more minutely the glories of the New 
Jerusalem,— the great citadel of the renovated earth, — 
the city of the immediate presence of God and the Lamb, 
whose presence constitutes its only temple of worship, 
whose glories pour over it the beams of eternal noon, 
from whose throne wells forth the river of the water of 
life — the holy city of joy and worship, to which all the 
nations of the holy and saved have free access forever. 

This vision of the new heaven and the new earth, it is 
manifest, refers to the final state of the righteous, and not 
to the millennial. For the millennium, which John fore- 
saw in a previous vision, precedes the day of final judg- 
ment, but the new heavens and earth follow it ; the mil- 
lenium is for a limited season, but this is forever and 
ever ; under the millennium, Satan is bound till near the 
close, when he is loosed again ; but in the new heaven and 
earth there is no more approach of the enemy — Satan 
and all his accomplices having been cast into the lake of 
fire and brimstone, to be tormented forever and ever. 

Whatever interpretation therefore is given to the vision 
of the millennium ; whether, as the most judicious exposi- 
tors have judged, it is a period of the universal triumph 

33 



250 77/;? Righteous to Live Hereafter within 



of the cause and friends of Christ in putting down every 
system of opposition before upheld on earth, and of his 
taking spiritual possession of all the nations ; or whether, 
as the literalists will have it, who warn us to expect very 
speedily the personal coming of Christ, it is a period in 
which Christ, surrounded by the raised martyrs, will be 
bodily present on earth to set up a universal monarchy — 
to carry on the work of converting and sanctifying men 
by sight instead of by faith : I say, whatever interpretation 
be adopted respecting the vision of the millennium, it is 
clear that the vision of the new heaven and earth presents 
a state of things altogether distinct from it, and not to 
take place till after the millennium and after the universal 
judgment. 

We are clear therefore in the conclusion that this final 
vision of the apostle sets forth the final and immortal 
state of the righteous, and depicts that day of eternal 
glory at the end of l these present days of trial, when 
Daniel shall again stand in his lot, and Job shall see his 
Redeemer standing upon the earth ; when the Redeemer 
shall come to bring up his people from their graves, and 
to transform those who are still living ; that, with ethereal 
bodies like his own, they may live with him forever amid 
the multiplied and perfected glories of immortality. And 
though, in the particulars given of the new Jerusalem, it 
may not be the intention of revelation to sketch precisely 
the scenes of that state in their minute outlines, but to 
present the ingredients of it in emblems; yet it were to 
depart too far from the vision to deny, that any material 
creation with its glories can be included or intended. 

I will close, with presenting to you the conclusion of 
Dr. Andrew Fuller respecting this vision, as given in his 
Lectures on the Revelation. " The whole of what is said, 
instead of describing the heaven of heavens, represents 
the glory of that state as coming down upon the 
earth. It is a representation of heavenly glory, in so far 
as that glory relates to the state of this earth on which we 
dwell. The earth will not be annihilated by fire any 
more than it was by water. It will be purified from sin 



the Scenes of a Material Universe. 251 



and all its effects. The generations of a corrupt race of 
creatures having terminated, it will become the perfect 
and perpetual abode of the righteous." 

In the argument which I have now completed, it has 
been my design, not to dwell on the more important part 
of the immortal life of the saints, in their purely spiritual 
joys, as righteous beings communing in spirit with one 
another and with God, but to complete the picture of 
that immortal life, by presenting a scene of subordinate 
and concurring joy, in their converse still with the glories 
of a more finished physical creation, and that — without 
attempting to establish more than the general outline : — 
that the saints, re-clothed with a pure and ethereal organi- 
zation, which is strong and imperishable for immortality, 
may yet move among the visible works of God ; and 
mingle, as they do here on earth, yet in sublimer and more 
exalted ways, in those beauties and works of creation, 
which instruct the mind, which charm the taste, and 
afford the heart fresh matter of rejoicing and praise before 
the eternal throne. 

And now, as we close our meditations, let us attend to 
the practical conclusion of the apostle : " Seeing that ye 
look for such things, be diligent, that ye may be found of 
him in peace, without spot and blameless." 

We have been contemplating the opening scenes of 
eternity. We behold the righteous, who have followed 
the Redeemer on earth, rescued from the powerful flames 
that are to consume the world, and replaced in a new 
heaven and a new earth, beyond sorrow, decay and death ; 
blest forever with the purity and love of perfect beings ; 
growing in the love and friendship of God, and gathering 
fresh incense to offer upon his altar from the glories of 
his surrounding works. 

O ! is not this an object worthy to enlist the aspiration 
of our hearts, and encourage us in the diligent use of 
those means of grace which our Lord now grants us ; 
and should it not call off our thoughts and hearts from 
those sins and deceptive pleasures which pollute our 
souls, and which, persisted in, must render us unfit for so 



252 The Righteous to Live Hereafter within 



glorious an inheritance, and cut us off forever from its 
joys? 

We are advancing to this day of God, when Christ shall 
come in the heavens in great glory, and, refining the 
world by the flames of universal desolation, shall put his 
redeemed in the new heavens and the new earth, con- 
structed upon the ruins of the old, and shall cast off the 
wicked into the lake of devouring fire. O ! how much will 
be involved — in respect to each one of us — in the one 
question whether we then meet our Lord in peace, with- 
out spot and blameless, or meet him in wrath, defiled still 
with reigning iniquities ! 

If we then are found among the reconciled and sancti- 
fied, what will be our joy to enter on the new earth of 
purity ! God and the Lamb ever with us, with the shining 
light of their friendship ! Friends with us, who drink 
sweetly their joys from the same fountain of purity ! And 
everything around us to instruct our minds and cheer 
our hearts : the beauties of color and form, the concord 
of sweet sounds, the bright waters of the river of life, 
the ambrosial fragrance of the trees of life ; our powers of 
motion strong as archangel's, and all the glories with us 
that an Almighty Architect can minister to his delighted 
children in his material works ! O, thus escaped from the 
pollutions and miseries of sin, and triumphant over death, 
the first and the second, how shall we adore God, and praise 
him for all the grace we sought and received from him in 
this world ; by which we met him in peace, and entered, 
for eternity, pure and blameless, into our high places of 
rest! Every joy there is innocent. Every varying joy 
goes to swell the sum that is welling up in every heart, 
and to bind all in closer bonds of love, praise and devoted- 
ness to God and the Lamb forever. 

But if, through present negligence and sin, we continue 
estranged from God, and meet him at last unreconciled 
and enemies, what must be our wretchedness to be cast 
off from his presence and from the society of his love, and 
to take up our residence in the flames of devouring wrath. 
If in that world, perchance, you lift up your eyes, and 



the Scenes of a Material Universe. 253 



descry afar off the world and mansions of the blest ; if, in 
your utter destitution and torment, you behold them in 
their shining and immortal robes, quaffing joy from the pure 
water of the river of life, with all the resources of infinite 
love pouring forth to charm the intellect, the taste, the 
heart, O ! how must you reproach yourselves that, in your 
present life, you suffered all these glories to pass before 
you, presented to you and pressed upon your acceptance 
by heavenly mercy , in vain ; and, in neglect of God and his 
service, seized upon the momentary objects, included in 
the present plan of the world — which were to be burned 
in the fire — as your only portion of joy for eternity ! 

O ! then now, before your Lord has come, now, while on 
his throne of mercy he asks you to procure of him recon- 
ciliation and purity, now, while the fate of eternity is 
pending and turning, be diligent in attending to the 
great duties of religion. Be diligent in consecrating 
both your bodies and spirits to the pure and holy service 
of God through Jesus Christ. Be diligent, that ye may 
be found of the Saviour at his coming, in peace, without 
spot and blameless : that so an entrance may be minis- 
tered unto you into his everlasting kingdom, and that, 
with all the millions of his redeemed, gathered in all ages 
and from all nations, you may participate, in body and 
spirit, in all the varied glories of that kingdom forever. 



THE PURCHASE OF THE TRUTH. 



[A BACCALAUREATE SERMON.] 



PROVERBS XXIII: 23. 

Buy the Truth. 



A very short precept; easily remembered; difficult to 

practise alwa}< s ; yet ever indispensable to our well-being. 

' To all classes of men, truth is the only safe basis of 

their estimate of thing's and of their practical decisions. 

At all periods of life and in all situations, there arise 
practical questions which we must decide. And if our 
welfare demands that a decision be made, still more essen- 
tial to our well-being is it, that our decision be made in 
accordance with the truth. 

To the life of the scholar, the precept applies with 
special force : for that he should utter fallacies or act 
upon them, is less excusable in himself and more danger- 
ous to his fellow-men. He, of all men, can best afford to 
pay the price of truth : and, if he refuses to procure it, 
he can most easily impose his false articles and wares 
upon the community for the true. 

But what is the truth ? 

Where is it to be had ? 

What price must we pay for it? 

Why must we make the purchase ? 

These are questions which will lead us into the fuller 
appreciation of this precept of wisdom. The answer to 
them will show us the nature ; the source ; the price ; and 
the value of the Truth. 

I. What is the Truth ? Solomon, who gave us the pre- 
cept, has not defined this term, considering it obvious, no 



256 The Purchase of the Truth. 



doubt, to the common apprehension of mankind. The 
very question was once put in the judgment-hall at Jeru- 
salem to a greater than Solomon, perhaps sneeringly, 
perhaps sincerely ; but no answer was deemed necessary 
on that occasion. We need go no further than our own 
consciousness and experience for an answer. We have all 
had occasion to see that a judgment may be formed on a 
certain subject, or an affirmation be made, which, when 
tested, differs from the reality, as well as one which agrees 
with it. Now, the object of all truth is to represent to 
the mind the reality of things ; and truth is either that 
judgment of the mind, or that affirmation of a judgment 
in language, which corresponds to the reality of things. 
The agreement of the judgments of the mind, or of 
affirmations, with the reality of things, then, constitutes 
truth ; while their disagreement is the essence of error. 
Conformity to the reality of things, is then the most gen- 
eral and comprehensive idea we can form of truth : and 
this quality may belong, either to verbal propositions 
which affirm a judgment of the mind, or to the mental 
judgments themselves. The precept of Solomon, no 
doubt, respects our mental judgments and decisions ; that, 
as these may be true or false, we should procure, at what- 
ever price it may cost us, (at least on all questions that 
concern our interests and our duties,) such judgments as 
are true and correspondent to the nature and reality of 
things. For one may procure a set of verbal propositions 
which are true, without procuring the truth. He may 
buy books of truth, and yet in his mind be ignorant and 
destitute of the truths they contain. Your own experi- 
ence tells you the difference between owning a copy of 
Euclid, and being masters of geometrical truth ; between 
furnishing your library well, and well informing your own 
spirit. To possess the truth, one must see that his views 
and judgments correspond to the reality of things, and 
that they do not differ from the reality. He must see 
that his judgments rest on such evidences and proofs, as 
give either certainty or necessity to his conclusions. He 
must settle them on these deep and firm foundations. He 



The Purchase of the Truth. 257 



must have the moral demonstration of certainty, or the 
scientific demonstration of necessity. 

The nature of Truth in the mind, then, is to conceive of 
things as they are, and to found our conceptions on reasons 
which give certainty to them, or necessity. 

II. But whence are zee to procure the truth ? To what 
source must we look to inform ourselves? 

To conform our views and judgments to the reality of 
things, it is clear that we must study things themselves 
in their reality. The universe of existent things is before 
us : and in order to ascertain the nature, properties and 
relations of existent things, in which the whole field of 
truth is comprehended, we must, in each specific case, see 
that the particular property or relation which we affirm 
or judge to belong to a thing, does belong to it with 
certainty or by necessity. The deep sources of truth 
then lie in universal nature, and in God, the author of 
nature : for these comprehend all existent things. 

Universal nature teaches us her own truths, and truths 
respecting God. For in this field of study, what is true 
in the natural, the intellectual and the moral world, 
becomes obvious, either as facts of which our conscious- 
ness or our observation takes cognizance, or as general 
principles obvious to intuition or experience, or as truths 
deduced as the necessary consequences and conclusions 
of the reason. That which is true here is seen to be so 
in its own nature, independently of the judgments or 
affirmations of mankind. It is therefore to nature that we 
look, and not to the works of men, for the deep source of 
truth. Men may assist us, by their testimony to the 
knowledge of facts beyond our personal observation. 
They ma}', in their published works, set before us their 
deductions of truth from nature. But Ave are to be judges 
of the process and results, whether they are true to the 
nature of things or not. We are to see that their con- 
clusions are founded on evidence and proofs, which show 
certainty or necessity, if we would obtain a personal 
possession of the truth. 

34 



258 The Purchase of the Truth. 



But the field of nature is itself the product of the 
Creator, and, from the consequences of his agency seen 
in his works, we may make some deductions respecting 
him, their author, as certain and necessary. From the 
visible effects, we may reason to the unseen cause : and 
thus nature teaches us truths beyond her own domains ; 
truths respecting God ; his nature, perfections, thoughts, 
designs. 

But a source of truth, higher than nature, is the infinite 
God himself. In respect to his own being, perfections, 
purposes and works, his knowledge is perfect ; his testi- 
mony infallible. A revelation from the Author of nature 
expresses his infallible judgment, and gives the certainty 
of truth to his creatures. Jesus, when he was in that 
world which was made by him, declared ; " for this cause 
came I into the world that I should bear witness to the 
truth." "/am the truth:" as God, comprising in him- 
self the sum of all truth ; and as a Revealer, in the per- 
ceptions of his understanding and in all his utterances, 
conformed to the reality of things. Here in revelation is 
truth expressed : and here is a deep and infallible source 
of truth. In our inquiries therefore into the truth, we 
are to come to the affirmations of his word : and our 
inquiries terminate on the true or the false interpretation 
of the language. We are to distinguish true interpreta- 
tion and inference from false : and our reliance is not on 
the interpretations of our fellow-men or their judgments, 
but on those proofs and reasonings which render a given 
interpretation certain and necessary. 

III. But iv hat is the price we must pay in order to procure 
the truth ? What ! methinks I hear some exclaim, is a price 
demanded for obtaining the truth ? Are not the books 
of nature and revelation open and free for our perusal 
and study ? Are we not invited to come and receive the 
benefits of divine instruction without money and without 
price ? 

True : the field of truth is open and free for us to enter 
and occupy. There are no costs imposed other than 
those which arise of necessity out of our nature, charac- 



The Purchase of the Truth. 259 



ter and condition. The means which our fellow-men 
impart to us, to aid us in the pursuit of truth, by the com- 
munication of their knowledge in teaching or by books, 
justly demand a literal price : and, were I speaking to 
that point, I might give some advice as to selection, 
rather than the price : that you furnish your libraries 
with the Bible, the great fountain of truth, and with such 
books, as lead you to a knowledge of God and his works, 
and qualify you for the duties of your station. 

Yet with all the means of knowledge in our possession, 
in order to procure to ourselves the advantages of the 
truth on our course of life, we must needs pay the price of 

Mental labor, to undergo the necessary processes of 
study ; 

Temperance, to subordinate our sensual enjoyments and 
passions to the reason ; 

Moral courage, to venture on the ill-will of the false and 
licentious ; and 

Humility, to remain contented with ignorance in matters 
beyond our present opportunities of knowledge. 

Severe mental labor is a part of the price you must pay 
in order to procure the truth. You have learned, in the 
course of mental discipline to which you have already 
been subjected, that close, methodical, protracted effort, 
is necessary to render yourselves masters of the truth in 
any branch of knowledge. But, in your researches after 
truth, you have but just begun that course to which your 
whole after life should be devoted. There are many 
fields of knowledge to invite your attention through life ; 
and if you would make proficiency in them, so as to have 
the truth clearly and fully in your possession, there must 
be passed many and many an hour of close attention and 
study. And the questions of conduct and duty, that will 
ever be rising up to demand of you the estimate of truth, 
cannot lie neglected with safety. They must be taken 
up, they must be analyzed, they must be brought to the 
standards of evidence and duty, and your judgment must 
ascertain those conclusions which are certain and founded 
on good and sufficient reasons, if you would stand firm in 



260 The Purchase of the Truth. 



the truth. A life then of severe study, that will examine 
matters fully and thoroughly to their foundations ; of 
methodical study , that will take up one thing at a time, and 
proceed with it in that true and logical order which alone 
leads to a clear and satisfactory conclusion ; of constant 
study, that will take up and thoroughly solve the new 
questions of interest or duty that are continually arising 
in this world ; — such a life is the price exacted of you, if 
you "would be sure to have the truth with you on your 
way. 

Another necessary condition of having the truth with 
you on your course, is that of temperance, to subordinate 
your sensual enjoyments and passions to the decisions of 
the reason. To say nothing of the time consumed by 
those supremely devoted to sensual enjoyments, which 
is subtracted from the opportunities of intellectual effort, 
or of that clog which is put upon the mental operations 
themselves by too great indulgence of bodily appetites 
and passions, both which must detract from the progress 
of the student in all the fields of knowledge, I now speak 
of the influence of false tastes and appetites, to pervert 
the judgments of the mind on the great topics of our 
moral and spiritual interests and duties. The estimate of 
good and evil, of right and wrong, must, if made in truth, 
rest on the basis of reason and not of the passions. The 
passions are limited and local, and not universal and per- 
petual in their dictates, as is the reason. They exag- 
gerate the good or diminish the evil of their own estimates 
beyond truth and reason : they are ready to prejudice the 
cause of truth and set up that of error. There is a neces- 
sity therefore of subordinating the passions of our sensual 
and earthly nature to the dictates of the pure reason or 
the clear revelation, which are our only safe guides, if we 
would procure the truth. This is a part of the price we 
must pay, in order to secure ourselves in the truth : and 
to most, — so earthly and sensual are our natures, — the 
price is great: demanding no little sum of self-denial and 
self-government. 



The Purchase of the Truth. 261 



Still another item of cost to us in securing and main- 
taining- the truth with us in life, is that of moral courage, 
to bear, when necessary, the ill-will of the false or the 
malicious. The history of our world abounds in exam- 
ples of those, who, for putting faith in the word of God 
and the dictates of reason, — who, for adhering to the 
truth, have suffered from the ill-will of the ignorant, the 
prejudiced, the licentious and malicious. There have 
been martyrs to the truth of God, to the truths of nature, 
to moral truths, and to political. So ignorant are men, 
so prejudiced by their passions, so corrupt often in their 
lives, that to stand up among them as the holder and 
defender of truth, must sometimes cost the courage of 
facing, if not a physical, yet a moral martyrdom. To 
have the name cast out as evil, to be defamed and mocked 
and threatened, is the punishment visited upon them, even 
in the best regulated communities, from the ill-will of 
opposers. One must make up his mind then to pay this 
cost whenever it is necessary, if he would be a holder and 
friend of the truth : The moral courage to decide accord- 
ing to truth and the nature and reality of things, however 
much it may cause us to differ from the judgments, the 
customs, or practices of the age : To hold on to the 
truth, as that which will support us and will survive the 
prejudices and ill-will of a present generation. 

I have named also, as a part of the price at which truth 
is secured, the humility that remains contented in igno- 
rance on matters beyond our present opportunities of 
knowledge. There is a pride, which is much in the way 
of all real progress in knowledge, and we must sacrifice 
it if we would advance in the truth. The pride that 
claims knowledge without having it in possession, and the 
pride, that grasps at what is beyond its power. The 
pride, that claims to know what it has not yet attained, 
surely stands in the way of ever making the attainment ; 
and, until one is willing to sacrifice such a pride, and con- 
fess, to himself at least, and feel, his ignorance, he cannot 
truly and earnestly set himself to procure the truth : he 
must remain destitute of it. But there is a pride in the 



262 The Purchase of the Truth. 



way of truth, and that must be sacrificed to its attain- 
ment :— a pride of another kind, — a pride which grasps at 
what is beyond its power. There are some, who think 
themselves equal to cope at once with all the branches of 
knowledge ; and thus defeat their own end and aim, by 
grasping at too much and at what is beyond their power. 
They would fain think themselves sufficient to master all 
the branches of science and all the departments of truth 
and knowledge, and this disposition, by preventing their 
thorough attention to the study of any, renders them 
miserable dabblers in all. It is a price we are to pay for 
acquiring truth, that we have the humility to remain con- 
fessedly ignorant in some things, while we are faithfully 
studying others. We may thus reach a larger circle of 
thoroughly investigated and established truth in the end. 
This humility is necessary, too, to keep us to the attain- 
ments which are within our power. For the time and 
attention bestowed on subjects which are not within our 
power and means of attaining, is so much lost from our 
progress in those which are attainable. 

These considerations set before you the necessary cost 
at which you are to procure the truth, and keep it with 
you at all times as your guide in life. 

IV. But why should we make the purchase ? There is 
something in the precept of Solomon that exalts greatly 
the value of truth. The precept is absolute : it sets no 
limit on the price : it enjoins the purchase, whatever be 
the cost. Buy the truth. Make the purchase at any rate. 
Pay the price whatever it be. The truth will be of far 
greater worth to you than the cost. You cannot afford 
to do without it, in the management of any of your inter- 
ests or duties. 

But wherein consists its value? What is that value, 
compared with the price ? What, compared with the 
necessary losses to arise from ignorance and error ? 

The value of truth may be estimated in part from its 
positive advantages, as a treasure of joy to the mind, a 
qualification for doing good among men, a means of serv- 



The Purchase of the Truth. 263 



ing God acceptably, and a means of preparation for an 
immortal life with God in his kingdom. 

The truth is itself a treasure of great joy to our minds. 
Truth satisfies the understanding : administering to that 
immortal faculty its own pure, solid, and durable aliment 
of knowledge. Who can tell the satisfaction of the mind, 
when turning to some field of knowledge, and pursuing 
its eager search after the truth, its perceptions become 
clear and definite, and the truth is first seen looming up 
beyond doubt in the certainty of its proofs and evidences. 
How is the labor of the process at once turned to joy, as 
the discoverer exclaims : " I have it, I have it now ! " 
Yes, he has it now for an everlasting possession among 
the treasures of his knowledge. Not only does truth 
give satisfaction to the understanding, but each item of 
truth obtained enlarges the comprehension of the under- 
standing. A new treasure is added to its stores, a new 
domain from the field of knowledge is added to its terri- 
tories. The mind thus, by acquiring truth, comprehends 
more and more within its possessions; and, while itself 
becomes constantly enlarged, it feeds at an everlasting 
fountain. For truth, the aliment on which the under- 
standing feeds with expansive joy, ranges on forever 
beyond the world and time and all created things into the 
depths of the infinite spirit of Jehovah. But there is 
more in the treasures of, truth than the joy of knowledge. 
For truth supplies the pure and lovely materials, on which 
the imagination and the heart may dwell with safety and 
delight. The fields of beauty and loveliness opened to 
us in nature, in the various creations of God, in the means 
and ends of his providence, in the history of his dealings, 
in the teachings of his word, and in his own infinite love- 
liness of perfection and character, — so far as they are 
surveyed and ascertained by our understandings, — give a 
free scope to our meditations. Here, in this field of truth, 
the imagination, in picturing to itself, in the full and 
glowing features and coloring of life, the limits and out- 
lines of truth, can feed itself with pictures of loveliness 
ever new and varying, yet ever true and ever awakening 



264 The Purchase of the Truth. 



the affections of the heart to purity and love. It is thus 
that, with the truths of nature and God for our guide, our 
thoughts may ever rove through fields of beauty and 
loveliness with fresh and immortal joy. The truth also 
settles the aims and purposes of our wills on a firm and 
satisfactory foundation. For the estimates of wisdom, in 
propounding the end to be pursued in this life and the 
particular means to be adopted in pursuing that end, are 
founded surely on the truth. The truth ascertained and 
clearly seen, shows us the ends which God propounds to 
himself in his works and to his intelligent creatures in his 
kingdom, and the rules and methods by which that end is 
secured : and when our estimates conform to his, — when 
our purposes and plans, as to the end and means of our 
pursuit, are seen by the trufth to conform to his, those pur- 
poses and plans are strong and satisfactory to our own 
minds. They are seen to be founded on the everlasting 
wisdom and strength of God ; approved of him ; and 
consequently immovably satisfying to ourselves, and mat- 
ters of our own approbation at the time and ever after, 
whatever the particular issues. 

Thus the truth set before us in the field of nature and 
the word of revelation, the truth to be acquired as our 
possession, is a treasure of immense joy and satisfaction 
to our natures. 

Tis a broad land of wealth unknown, 

Where springs of life arise ; 
Seeds of immortal bliss are sown, 

And hidden glory lies. 

But truth not only ministers thus to our natures from 
its immortal fountain, it accompanies us into our relations 
to the society of our fellow-men, and fits us to fill our 
stations to the honor of God and the benefit of our race. 
The value of a mind well informed and settled in the 
truth, and acting as the minister of God for the welfare of 
others, is seen in many a bright example on the page of 
history, in the effects that have been left on the living 
age, or that have passed over to succeeding generations. 



The PurcJiasc of the Truth. 265 



Through the truth have they gained their victories for 
God and the race. Into whatever station you enter in 
society, at that post, no qualification is so valuable as a 
mind and heart well informed and grounded in the truth, 
and able to employ its treasures wisely to advance the 
en,ds of your station. For all the great interests of hu- 
manity, in every department, depend on conformity to the 
laws which a God of truth has stamped on the nature of 
things in his kingdom, and by which he sets forth to his 
intelligent creatures the ends and means, on which their 
happiness necessarily depends. Who then is fit to guide 
men in conformity to the laws of nature and God, and 
thus to further their welfare, but he who has acquired 
the truth ; who sees distinctly, on topics of public interest, 
what are the right and true conclusions, and rests their 
certainty on clear and indisputable evidences and proofs? 
He is prepared to dispel the mists of ignorance before 
him ; to silence the pleas of error, and bear along with 
him, sooner or later, in his own generation, or in genera- 
tions to follow, the convictions of mankind. 

In society at large, then, would you serve God and 
your generation? What speaker, what writer, can so 
command attention, so fix the views of his hearers or 
readers to clear and definite apprehensions, so settle and 
establish their minds in his own positions and judgments, 
as he who thinks clearly, definitely and truly himself, and 
has at his command all the materials for illustration and 
proof, by which to settle others in the truth ? To say 
nothing of the earnest pleading and sincerity, which un- 
derly all outward means and appliances used, in the 
heart devoted to God and to the benefit of the race, who 
else can so fitly manage the outward means and applian- 
ces themselves? In the Church, would you serve God and 
your generation? If you minister at the altars of reli- 
gion, if you serve at the desk of religious instruction, 
what more necessary or more valuable qualification than 
to have acquired the truth of God for a personal posses- 
sion ? To have the understanding, the imagination, and 
the heart, largely and deeply conversant in the things of 

35 



266 The Purchase of the Truth. 



God ; and to be able, out of such treasures, to feed the 
hungry with understanding, to guide the weak and the 
straying into the right way, to convince and persuade 
unbelievers, and make known to all the wonderful glory 
of God, and the only true way to honor and glory in his 
immortal kingdom. And in the State, if called in the 
halls of legislation to speak for the interests of a people, 
what power has that orator to guide and sway to meas- 
ures of utility, who, well furnished on questions of public 
policy and duty, has at command the definite conclusions 
and the unfailing evidences and proofs of truth ? He 
speaks with definiteness to the point in debate : and, with 
the clearness and cogency of unanswerable reason, sets 
forth his conclusions in the light of certainty : and they, 
who consult impartially the public interest, are convinced, 
and, by their concurrence, the affairs of the State are man- 
aged with safety and success. 

Or, if he must contend w T ith the perverse leaders of an 
ignorant faction, and fails of immediate success, he suc- 
ceeds to plant the seeds of truth that shall bear a later 
harvest. Before his manly front and convincing appeals, 
the leaders of faction quail and cower. He steps between 
them and the misguided multitude, to show up the soph- 
istry of the wandering harangues they substitute in the 
place of argument, and pin them down to their proper 
place of presumptuous ignorance or wilful falsehood. 
Their want of integrity becomes manifest ; their substi- 
tution of their own personal aggrandizement in place of 
the public interests, stands reproved ; and they and their 
measures, if upheld for the moment, receive the verdict 
of public condemnation at a later period. The advocate 
of truth thus triumphantly succeeds to impart the bles- 
sings of his wisdom to his own or a succeeding generation : 
and the triumph is forever recorded on the page of im- 
partial history. Truth thus imparts to its possessor the 
power to labor most fitly and successfully for the wel- 
fare of his race : to set before them, more convincingly 
and persuasively, the true means and sources of their 
welfare. 



The Purchase of the Truth. 267 



But a still higher value belongs to the possession of 
truth, as the means of preparing us for an immortal life 
with God in his kingdom. In conforming our judgments 
to truth, we shall come to the teachings of nature and the 
teachings of revelation, that our minds may be filled with 
the knowledge of God. For we shall not have the truth 
with us practically, we shall not hold it in its highest and 
most earnest teachings, unless we view God as the sum 
and source of all spiritual excellence and happiness. He, 
the infinite Father of spirits, has created our spirits after 
the image of his own immortality : and he sets forth to 
us, in his works and word, the pattern of his own wisdom 
and goodness and righteousness and mercy, that we may 
conform our minds and feelings and aims to his, and fill 
our natures from his infinite fullness. Thus, at the fount 
of truth, we drink in the mind and spirit of God into our 
natures, and hold a fellowship with his Spirit, that gives 
witness to us of an immortal life with \him in his kingdom. 
For Jesus, in coming to us as the Revealer of God and the 
Pattern of God, intending not merely to free us from the 
condemnation of the law, but to restore us to its great 
precept, hath said : " This is eternal life that they might 
know thee, the Only True God, and Jesus Christ whom 
thou hast sent." The very element and source of eternal 
joy to our souls in the kingdom of God, is taken in the 
truth, in the knowledge of God and Jesus Christ, in fel- 
lowship with them in mind, in spirit, in works : so that, 
as he lives forever in his own infinite fullness of knowl- 
edge, excellence and joy, they shall live also forever in 
the communion, which they begin here in his love through 
the truth, with him in his eternal kingdom. 

The truth it is, that thus leads us to God and Christ in 
reconciliation and love in this life, and prepares us for an 
immortal life of increasing knowledge, love and joy with 
him in his kingdom. 

I have thus enumerated the positive benefits, to be deri- 
ved from procuring to ourselves the possession of the 
truth, as a treasure of great joy to our natures, as a means 



268 The Purchase of the Truth. 



by which we may benefit our race, and as our guide to 
an immortal life in heaven. 

Should we not pay then whatever price is necessary to 
the possession of so valuable a treasure ? The treasure is 
far more valuable to us, than the cost can be at any rate. 
For the cost of mental toil, denial of sensual passions, 
moral courage and humility, that may be exacted is, at 
the w 7 orst, but a partial sacrifice and a temporary one, 
which in itself is a salutary discipline for our natures, 
while the truth procured by it, ministers positively and 
largely to the welfare of our whole being, in all its rela- 
tions, — and that to eternity. 

Should we not then make the purchase ? If we withhold 
the price and refuse, we necessarily forfeit all these high 
and everlasting advantages ; and, in mental indolence, in 
the indulgence of sensuality, in cowering to the opinions 
of the vile, in the vain boasts of pride, we shall become 
the dupes of ignorance, error, and sin, and rove away 
from the center of all truth and loveliness, like wandering 
stars, into the blackness of darkness forever. 

The precept which I have unfolded applies, I have said, 
with special force to the life of the scholar. 

The scholar has disciplined his mind to the processes of 
study. Shall he then suffer questions of deep and univer- 
sal interest, on which he must act, to lie uninvestigated ? 
Shall he not rather apply himself to the task of settling 
his mind clearly and firmly on the foundations of truth ? 

He can appreciate, to some extent from his own expe- 
rience, the joys and advantages of acquiring truth. Shall 
he not follow on, then, to know the Lord and his works, 
and to increase, at the fount of truth, the treasures of his 
knowledge ? 

And, because of his advantages and opportunities, he is 
expected to know the truth. Shall he be content then to 
utter among his fellow-men the fallacies that deceive, and 
thus expose them to injury, and himself to detection and 
contempt? Shall he not rather strive to maintain the 
reputation of an earnest and thorough champion of the 
true, the right and the good ? 



The Purchase of the Truth. 269 



My Young Friends, I have set before you a short pre- 
cept of wisdom. Though short, it is comprehensive, and 
it guides you to your highest welfare.- You can easily 
retain it in memory. Will you adopt it as a maxim of 
life? Will you put it into practice? You may find it 
difficult to do it always. But do it : and the gain will be 
yours. Do it : and its deep wisdom will appear to you in 
the happy experience of your souls, on the path of this 
life, and in eternity. 

I may not have another occasion of speaking to you. 
I hope the many occasions, on which I have spoken al- 
ready, may not prove in vain : nor the many lessons of 
instruction you have here received from your teachers. 
A review of the few years of your residence here, will 
serve to impress on your hearts lessons of thankfulness 
for the care and kindness of an overruling providence, 
and lessons of wisdom for your guidance on the ways of 
future life. You have lived to reach this goal. One, 
only, of your happy number has fallen from your ranks. 
Burnap is not with you to-day. He has fallen asleep in 
life's early morning. And over his grave you drop the 
tear of sorrow with the family, whose hearts are so sad- 
dened this day with their disappointment and loss. You 
have reached the goal : and again you are to start forth 
on a new career, to try, apart, the yet untrod paths of life. 
Have you not seen on your way already, that to let truth 
enter your understanding and heart, and bear the sway, 
is far better for your present peace and usefulness and 
your eternal prospects, than to wallow in the mire of sen- 
sual and earthly passions, and to cringe and bow, as slaves, 
for the flattery and favor of those around you who are 
addicted to like passions ? Certainly you have, to your 
joy, if you have been faithful ; to your sorrow, if unfaith- 
ful. Go forth then, resolved, all as one, cost it what 
partial and temporary discipline it may, to be men of 
understanding and men of truth, for the honor of God 
and the benefit of your race, on this transitory stage of 
your existence. Then, happy will it be for you, when 
your days upon earth are ended, to have sent before you 



270 The Purchase of the Truth. 



into heaven, and to leave behind yon among - men, joyful 
testimonies to your advocacy for God and righteousness ; 
and, as you enter into the presence of your Judge, to 
hear from his lips the benediction of immortal joy : " Ser- 
vants of God, well done." 

Beloved pupils and friends, we bid you farewell. 



NO REFUGE BUT CHRIST, 



ISAIAH XXVIII: 17. 

The hail shall sweep away the refuge of lies, and the waters shall 
overflow the hiding place. 

The prophet made this declaration to the rulers of 
Jerusalem, who sustained, as he declares, the character 
of " scornful men." They, it seems, who should have 
used their influence with the people for their holiness 
and spiritual welfare, were willing to stand up as oppo- 
sers of the progress of divine truth, and as stumbling- 
blocks in the way of the salvation of Israel, by publicly 
taking the station of scorners of this prophet of the Lord. 
They were willing to deride the threatenings, which he 
denounced in the name of the Lord against sinners. The 
prophet declares, that they sustained their scornful spirit, 
by the vain imagination that they were secure from the 
threatened evils of death and hell. They had, in their 
own opinion, devised a way which would protect them 
from the evil : but the prophet assured them, that it was 
a refuge of lies ; that they were hiding themselves under 
falsehood. He then announces to them, distinctly, the 
plan on which Jehovah would deal with the inhabitants of 
Jerusalem : that he would place in Jerusalem a corner- 
stone and foundation, tried and precious, on which those 
who in faith rested themselves for security would find 
protection ; where they should not make haste, nor flee in 
the day of coming wrath : but that he would bring judg- 
ment, with the exact and even measure of the line and 
plummet, upon all others ; and that the overflowing waters 
of judgment, like the deluge which had once desolated 
the world, would flow in on their hiding place and drown 
them in destruction. They who did not repair in faith to 



272 No Refuge but Christ. 



the Redeemer in Zion, he thus assured them, could resort 
to no refuge which would protect them from the holy 
vengeance of God. 

This declaration in like manner assures you, my friends, 
that there is no refuge, except the Lord Jesus Christ, which 
will protect you from the eternal wrath of God. 

In illustrating this subject, I will attempt to show, 

I. That they, who are careless about their salvation, are 
sustaining themselves by some refuge. 

II. That every refuge to which they betake themselves, 
short of the Lord Jesus Christ, leaves them exposed to 
the wrath of God. And, 

III. That unless they speedily forsake every such 
refuge, they must be overwhelmed and destroyed by the 
judgment of God. 

In presenting this subject to you, my fellow-sinners, my 
prayer to God is, that I may be enabled, in all fidelity and 
with sincere affection, to point out to you your imminent 
danger, and induce you to flee immediately to Jesus 
Christ for refuge, and to rest your souls in security on 
that Rock of Salvation, which God has placed in Zion for 
your deliverance in the coming day of judgment. 

I remark, then, 

I. In the first place, that all of you, who are at ease 
respecting your salvation, are quieting your fears by 
resorting to some refuge. 

Fear is always excited in the mind of man, when he sees 
some great evil impending over him, and knows that he 
can resort to nothing which will afford him protection. 
Only strip him of every shelter, close upon him every 
way of escape, take away from him all power to remove 
the coming evil, and you pour at once into his heart the 
agitations of terror — a terror measured only by the 
extent of the evil that he is to suffer. The shipwrecked 
mariner, when on mid-ocean he sees the fragile ship that 
bears him, foundering, and soon to engulph him in the 
abyss of waters, if he discover no means of escape at 
hand or abroad, feels at once the terrors of hastening 
death. And if at that hour his soul is not buoyed up 



No Rcftigc but Clirist. 273 



with some hope, he is open at once to the terrors of hell. 
And as he watches the rapid approach of the evil, the 
few moments that intervene, in which he can drink in the 
light and breathe the air of day, afford no relief to his 
heart. He is agonized with a despair that is to know no 
end, and, in the midst of his terror, he sinks in the abyss 
of the grave and hell. 

Now it is on this general principle of our nature, that 
I argue, that every one must be filled with deep fear 
respecting the safety of his soul, or else must be quieting 
his fear by trusting in some refuge for the protection of 
his soul. And in order to show this, I will appeal only to 
one thing of which you are conscious. I will not ask, 
whether you believe in the threatenings of God, which 
glare upon you in such unequivocal and pointed declara- 
tions throughout his word ; I will not ask, whether you 
believe in those affecting descriptions he has given you 
of the world of future punishment ; I will not attempt to 
show you — independently of any declarations of the fact 
in the Bible — that your soul is in danger, and that your 
fears must be excited, unless you resort to some protect- 
ing refuge. 

I appeal only to this one thing, of which you are con- 
scious at this moment: viz. that your heart is estranged 
from God. This glorious Being, who made you, and on 
whose favor the soul is dependent for its happiness, is not 
the object of your affections. You are not seeking your 
joy from his favor and service. You are not sympathiz- 
ing in his holiness and benevolence and justice with all 
the heart, and, in simplicity and love, surrendering your- 
self to his benevolent government. Your heart is fixed 
on other objects, which wholly separate you from all 
active and blissful communion in his love. You are thus, 
in the feelings and purposes of your heart, at actual vari- 
ance with the design and object of his most holy and 
benevolent government, and are consequently trampling 
on his laws and authority. 

Now this separation of the heart from him — this total 
insubjection to his benevolent government, is a fact which 

36 



74 No Refuge but Christ. 



lies fully within the limits of your own consciousness. 
The thing is definite and obvious. It is no other than 
your own full and stubborn purpose of heart, to cleave to 
the inferior joys which you strive to find in your own 
personal and worldly and independent gratification. You 
need no declaration of the word of God to assure you of 
a fact like this, which comes so fully within the cogni- 
zance of your own consciousness. Whether you admit 
revelation, or pretend to deny it, this most alarming fact 
stares you fully in the face. 

And this fact portends such danger to your soul, as 
must excite most serious apprehensions for your safety, 
unless you are resorting to some shelter, which you think 
will protect you from the evil. For it is obvious, that, 
with a heart thus continuing in alienation from God, and 
at variance with his holy law and righteous authority, 
there can be no peace to your soul in a coming eternity. 
For you can never escape from the vigilant eye, the 
almighty power, and the perfect government of this holy 
Being. And it is certain, that if you go forward forever 
with a heart thus at variance with him and his holy 
authority, you must for that reason be forever separated 
from all experience of his love, and lie under the full 
weight of his displeasure. And what misery must forever 
agonize that soul, that is to bear, through a long and hope- 
less eternity, the displeasure of a righteous and holy God, 
and an utter exclusion from all participation in the joys of 
his heavenly presence ! 

Now if you look only at your present separation from 
God and variance at heart with his government, you can 
see nothing else to flow from it but all this overwhelming 
anguish and ruin. If you hope to escape, your hope 
must come from some other quarter. It must come from 
something else, which serves you as a refuge from the im- 
pending evil. For, as to this variance with God in itself, 
it portends only everlasting ruin. You have persisted in 
it long. You have persisted in it madly, against the plea 
of your highest interests. You have persisted in it stub- 
bornly, against much long-suffering and goodness on the 



No Refuge but Christ. 275 



part of your holy and justly offended Creator, while wait- 
ing on you for your repentance. You are persisting in it 
now. You are absolutely unwilling to give it up, and 
submit yourselves to God. And what can you expect 
from this astonishing contest with a righteous and holy 
Creator, but to fall under the everlasting sufferings of his 
displeasure ? Nothing can meet you on this path but the 
everlasting ruin of your own soul — its eternal separation 
from all the joys which flow from holiness and the favor 
of God — its eternal endurance of all the anguish, which 
must come from degradation and sin and guilt, from an 
upbraiding conscience, a malicious heart, and the over- 
flowing scourge of God's wrath. You cannot be quiet, 
then, in your present separation from God, unless you 
resort to something, as the refuge under which you would 
shelter yourself, and by means of which you hope to 
escape the impending evil. I do not say, that your soul is 
disquieted within you. I do not say, that you are alarmed 
with the apprehensions of the evil in question. But what 
I now affirm is, that if such are not your feelings, you are 
quieting yourself with the hope of some escape. What 
I have been endeavoring to show, and what I think I have 
succeeded in showing, is that, if you are quiet, it is not 
because you see no danger whatever surrounding your 
soul and threatening its destruction, but because you 
cling to something which you hope will protect you from 
the danger. 

The inquiry therefore becomes as interesting to you as 
eternity, whether the refuge, to which you resort for 
quelling your fears, is one which will serve for your deep 
necessities, and protect you from the danger that threat- 
ens your everlasting interests ? To assist you to discover 
the truth on a point so vital to your well being, and to 
rescue you from every delusion of sin, I remark, 

II. In the second place, that every refuge to which you 
betake yourselves short of the Lord Jesus Christ, leaves 
your souls still exposed to all this danger. 

That refuge alone is valuable, which affords a sure pro- 
tection from the coming evil. When this world was 



276 No Refuge but Christ. 



threatened with a deluge, every one to whom Noah 
preached had the opportunity, doubtless, in fear of the 
coming evil, to build an ark for himself and household, 
which should ride over the face of the waters. At least, 
every one saw that no other species of refuge offered any 
protection against such an evil as a universal flood. And 
doubtless, whenever Noah uttered the threatening of 
God, his hearers resorted to some refuge to quell their 
fears. The first refuge, and perhaps the only one in their 
case, was unbelief. They did not believe that God would 
execute such a threatening. What had the world done to 
deserve it? Or, if they had offended their Maker, where 
should God find water sufficient for the submersion of a 
world ? But, when the flood came, they were driven from 
this refuge ; unless their unbelief followed them still, as 
they repaired for protection from height to height, until 
the last refuge was failing, and they could disbelieve no 
longer, as they were sinking under the judgments of 
heaven. 

And so, in your present condition, it is just as easy to 
perceive that no refuge, on w T hich you can depend, will 
afford any protection to your souls in a coming eternity, 
short of Jesus Christ. Christ is a sure refuge, for this 
plain reason, that in him God, your offended Maker, 
shows himself to you as willing to undertake with his own 
arm the work of your salvation. He has set apart his 
Beloved Son to the very office of bringing salvation down 
to the acceptance of just such beings and sinners as you. 
He has, in the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, voluntarily 
done all that was necessary for him, as a righteous king, 
to offer you, on your repentance and return to obedience, 
the free remission of your sins against his laws, and an 
admission to the joys of his favor. When the Lord Jesus, 
therefore, stands before you offering salvation, — offering, 
with the strongest proofs of sincerity, to take you at once 
and willingly under his protection and care, if you will 
only accept of him as your Saviour, and fully surrender 
yourself up to his care and government, there can be no 
doubt on your minds that this refuge is sure. The refuge 



No Refuge but Christ. 2JJ 



is adapted to the very nature of the evil. The sinner, 
who, moved by a sense of the evil of his estrangement 
from God and exposure to his curse, will come and make 
full confession of his sin, and with a broken heart will 
trust all his salvation in the hands of Christ, and look to 
him alone for it, and enlist his heart in humble and thank- 
ful devotedness to his will and glory, is brought to a 
reconciliation and communion with his God, which shall 
go on as the days of eternity, and which no act of the 
government of God — not the solemn acts of final judg- 
ment and retribution — will ever dissolve or shake. For 
it is an everlasting reconciliation, and communion in love. 

But every other source of deliverance, on which you 
can fasten a hope, is unavailing. In the first place, for 
this reason : that it leaves you still at variance with your 
Maker's government, and under his righteous curse — the 
very evils from which you need deliverance, and which 
threaten the eternal ruin of the soul. You may think of 
resorting to infidelity as your shelter. But, in that hiding 
place, you will not change your character or your rela- 
tion to the infinite God. The revelation which you 
attempt to disbelieve, has not made you a sinner nor an 
enemy of God : it finds you such ; and on the basis of 
that fact, which lies within your consciousness, and must 
follow you, go whither you will in the universe, it has 
merely come on an errand of mercy, to set before you a 
Saviour for your deliverance. God has acted as your 
highest benefactor in bringing this volume of his grace to 
your hands, and he only asks you to believe and trust 
with all your heart in that fullness of grace, that offers to 
unite you to his love and holy kingdom. And to dis- 
believe this, to draw back from accepting a proposal like 
this, is surely to leave your hearts still in all their dis- 
tance from God, and your souls in all their exposure to 
his righteous indignation. 

Do you think to find a shelter in the belief of universal 
salvation ? But what if you try, and try hard, to per- 
suade yourself of the safety of such a hope? Will that 
belief bring your hearts off from your idols and sins ? 



278 No Refuge but Christ. 



Will that belief bring you to repentance and hearty 
reconciliation and communion with God? Does not the 
searching eye of God, as it looks into your hiding place, 
see a heart there that is as insubmissive and rebellious 
as ever? and must not his holy indignation still pursue 
you, so long as you cling to a hope that alters not your 
character, but keeps you at distance from the surrender 
of yourselves to his government ? 

Or will you depend on mere external morality as your 
shelter ? Will you hope for protection at the tribunal of 
God, because you conform to your own rules of right- 
eousness ? Because you act an honorable part before 
your fellow-men, and abstain from acts of direct injustice 
and cruelty, and do many things for the temporal welfare 
of your fellow-creatures ? But while you rely on this, 
your hearts are still far from God, and not having entered 
into reconciliation with him, and become obedient to his 
holy dominion through Christ the Mediator, you are still 
the objects of his displeasure — the moral variance of your 
heart from the law of God still continues. And if you 
have no other hope for eternity, you go forward in your 
rebellion and sin against God, and can expect nothing but 
the fires of his vengeance. 

Or will you trust in the intention you cherish, of com- 
ing to Christ for salvation at a future day ? But, in this 
shelter, you still remain as you were. By this purpose 
of delay, no essential change is effected in your feelings 
towards God, or in his feelings towards you. There is no 
reconciliation, but rather a receding from it, in your 
greater insensibility and his greater displeasure. Your 
souls are still as open as ever to his consuming judg- 
ments. 

Or will you trust to your convictions ? Do you say 
that you entertain a clear and rational conviction, that 
God is good and just, and that you are a sinner ; and do 
you think that a mere conviction of the truth, however 
deep and strong it may be, will save you ? But if you 
rest in these convictions, without betaking yourself, as 
they urge you, in self-surrender to Jesus Christ for sal- 



No Refuge but Christ. 279 



vation, what change have they effected in your character 
or your relation to God? You are still dependent on 
yourself, and not on Christ, for salvation. And will the 
mere convictions of a sinner, who has fallen under his 
Maker's curse, and who still withholds his heart from 
surrender to the Saviour, avail to reconcile him to God ? 

Just so, if 37 ou will open your eyes to the nature of 
every refuge of which 3^011 have ever thought, or which 
3^ou can devise, short of Jesus Christ, who died for your 
sins and offers to be 3 7 our Saviour, 3^011 will see, that they 
leave 3^ou just where you were, without 3^our approxi- 
mating one step towards a happ3^ and cordial submission 
to God as your only Lord and Saviour, or towards 
removing from your souls the righteous curse of his law. 

In the next place, it is true of every refuge but Christ, 
that if you depend on it for safety, you not only retain 
essential^ the same character and relation to God as 
before, but. you also bind your souls to the same spiritual 
state more firmly than ever. The ver3 r act of depending 
on anything for your eternal happiness, binds you firmly 
to the object of your dependence ; and, if that object be 
other than Christ Jesus, it leads you along thoughtlessly 
and careless^ in all your exposure, until the ver3' evil 
comes upon 3 r ou. For he who takes a shelter, goes into 
it for the vei~3 r purpose of abiding the storm. And so 
long as he can think it secure, he will remain in it and 
await the consequences. If therefore every other refuge, 
to which you can trust for the salvation of your souls, but 
Christ, does not reconcile 3'ou and God at the time you 
enter it, it never will : it will but keep 3 r ou from a recon- 
ciliation, just as long and as firmly as 3 r ou depend on it for 
safet3 T . All possible refuges other than Christ, therefore, 
bind you to 3^our sins. They encourage you to go for- 
ward to the eternal world, in a thoughtless neglect of all 
your spiritual duties towards God, and all the conse- 
quences of a continued rebellion. And what can be 
expected from such refuges, that lead you to an utter 
carelessness about all 3^our contrariety to the holy 
government of God ? A rebel, made willing to adhere to 



280 No Refuge but Christ. 



his rebellion through all the goodness and holiness and 
grace, that are beaming on him from the throne of God ! 
made willing to adhere to it, without regard to the con- 
sequences ! made willing to adhere to it, till this life is 
closed, and to adhere to it through the anguish of death, 
and to go with it into the presence of his Maker ! Can 
anything come of such reliances and hopes, but the agony 
of eternal sin and guilt and despair? Must they not leave 
you unprotected in the great day of God's judgment ? 

But still again. Other refuges, on which you depend 
for the safety of your souls, must bring on you the addi- 
tional guilt of slighting all the love of Christ. They not 
only leave you still in a state of alienation from God in 
your hearts ; they not only encourage you to go forward 
in such a state to eternity, with a careless presumption : 
but in choosing to resort to them, rather than go in confi- 
dence to the Saviour as your only hope and righteous- 
ness, you bring on you the greater guilt of slighting his 
love and mercy. He is able to save you from your sins, 
and to bring your souls to the everlasting enjoyment of 
God's favor and government. He has given you the 
most convincing and melting proofs of his willingness to 
do all that is necessary for your redemption to God. He 
has in compassion visited this world, and surrendered up 
his life on the cross for you, that he might protect the 
government of God while offering you salvation. And 
he is before you with his offer, calling upon you, as lost 
sinners, to depend on him for the salvation of your souls. 
He only asks you to reject all other hopes of salvation, 
and with all your heart give up yourselves to his protec- 
tion and love. Why will you not try this Friend of 
sinners ? Why will you not repose all your hope and 
salvation in his keeping, and accept from him the pardon, 
the communion with God, the sanctifying grace, which he 
offers ? Why will you not depend on him for everything 
necessary to your deliverance and redemption, and joy- 
fully surrender your souls to him wholly and forever? 
It is love and mercy in him that asks you to do it, love 
and mercy, that has wept tears of sorrow and sweat drops 



No Refuge but Christ. 281 



of agony for you already, and that will never fail you, if you 
will rely on it. Will you, rather than bring your hearts to 
submit to such love and mercy, draw back to other hopes 
and refuges for eternity ; hopes and refuges, that have no 
other tendency or effect, than to keep your souls in all the 
pollution and condemnation of sin ? Oh, what an unfeeling 
requital is this of his love ! To resort to any expedient 
to quiet yourselves in sin, rather than give yourselves up 
to such a Benefactor and Saviour. To go away from him 
in your guilt, and rush on the horrors of eternal death, 
rather than fly to his arms for deliverance, and humbly 
accept of pardon and every grace as his gift. There is 
not a single other refuge, to which you cling for quieting 
your fears, but you show in it all this strength of unwil- 
lingness to come to the Saviour. Infidelity, universal 
salvation, external morality, conviction, intentions about 
the future, self-righteousness, confidence in yourselves or 
others, everything else on which you can fasten a Hope, 
while this Saviour is nigh, is but a pretext for shunning 
him, for keeping your heart from him, and for refus- 
ing him the joyful surrender of your souls. And what 
has this blessed Saviour done, that you should be 
so offended in him — so strongly offended that, rather 
than be beholden to him for your salvation, and go 
willingly and penitently to accept it, you will hide under 
any shelter you can find, though you die for it eternally ? 
Can there be any safety in those refuges, which serve 
only as pretexts for cherishing all this hardness of heart 
towards Christ ? If you are resting in any such, no 
matter what it may be, however fair and specious it may 
appear to } r ou, you are cherishing all this guilt and hard- 
ness of heart against God the Saviour ; and when the 
floods of divine wrath, which are coming, shall sweep 
over our guilty race, they must flow in on your hiding 
place, and, if you continue in it, overwhelm you in destruc- 
tion. To this thought, I would now direct your attention, 
III. In the third place : that, unless you speedily forsake 
every such refuge, you must be destroyed by the judg- 
ment of God. 

3/ 



282 No Refuge but Christ. 



There is a day of judgment coming. The Almighty 
Ruler over us is a holy and righteous God, whose author- 
ity we have all trampled on, whose law we have all 
broken, and to whose righteous penalty of endless death 
we have all subjected our souls. If he is a good Being, 
and seeks the happiness of his moral kingdom ; if he is a 
righteous Being, and wishes to enforce his good laws and 
make his authority respected, and thereby deserve the 
confidence of his subjects, the sinner will not be left by 
him to go on unpunished, nor will this guilty world be 
suffered to go forward in its sins, and still live, as it is now 
doing, upon his abused benefits. A reconciliation must 
soon take place, or these abused benefits will all be with- 
drawn, and the guilty left to perish in eternal want and 
pain. 

The presages that there is a day of coming wrath for 
sinners, meet you on every side. Your own consciences 
whisper to you, that God must come down in his wrath 
on the guilty, if he is a holy and righteous Being. Your 
own fears suggest that, while your hearts are at variance 
with God, there can be no safety. Your solicitude to 
cling to something as your refuge, shows that you wish 
protection from some possible, some probable evil. Con- 
nected with all these warnings from within you, there are 
warnings from without. The angel of death is flying 
over this guilty world, and sweeping its generations 
away from all the light and privileges they here enjoy, 
bearing the souls that have not loved God into his holy 
presence, to receive from him their eternal retribution. 
The Lord himself hath spoken by the mouth of all his 
holy prophets, and has declared that he is coming to 
execute judgment. But louder than all other warnings, 
more convincing even than all the threatenings of his 
wrath, is that great act of his mercy in laying with his 
own hand in Zion a foundation, solid as the everlasting 
rock, precious as the salvation of the soul, that sinners 
might repair to it freely, and escape the storms of coming 
vengeance. Nor can I conceive of a more alarming testi- 
mony, than is given in founding on this Eternal Rock all 



No Refuge but Christ. 28, 



the hopes of this probationary life. For, if God has pro- 
vided for us a refuge like this ; if he has given up his 
Beloved Son to the agonies of crucifixion, to make atone- 
ment for our sins, and serve us the purposes of a right- 
eousness in law ; if he has done an act like this, in order 
to afford us a means of deliverance, he sees that a storm of 
vengeance is at hand, which shall sweep over all the un- 
reconciled of our guilty race. He sees that equity and 
righteousness to his kingdom require of him, that he 
should bring down on the impenitent and unreconciled a 
judgment and wrath, from which there can be no escape 
through eternity. And the very offering of this refuge, 
shows that this day of wrath is at hand. If the evil might 
be delayed, and delayed as long as sinners might choose ; 
if he felt not obliged, as a God of justice, to appoint some 
time to execute judgment, but was at liberty to defer it, 
and defer it forever; he would not have sent Jesus Christ 
into the world, to bear the atonement of our iniquities. 
Such an indifference to executing judgment, as is sup- 
posed, viz. that he has no determination ever to enter 
upon its execution, is totally inconsistent with taking any 
steps of mercy in the way of deliverance. What motive 
could he possibly have for offering his Son as a Redeemer 
to sinners, if he had not a design to judge the world in 
righteousness, and if he were not moved by mercy to 
make a provision of possible salvation for sinners, who 
were so soon to come up, in view of the universe, before 
his judgment seat, and receive their endless retributions ? 
The very provision and offer of this refuge shows, that 
the mercy of a righteous God can extend no other deliv- 
erance to you, and that when this offer is withdrawn he 
must, if it have been neglected, execute judgment and 
wrath, that extends through a hopeless eternity and over- 
whelms the soul in the pains of eternal death. And all 
this wrath is speedily coming. "Behold," said this Saviour, 
when he closed the volume of inspiration, (and these are 
the last words, which in that hoi) 7 book of his mercy he 
leaves vibrating on your ears,) " Behold I come quickly." 
The day of respite, the day for deliverance, ye prisoners 



284 No Refuge but Christ. 



of hope, is short. These hours fly swiftly. These scenes 
of redemption are soon traversed. The cry of mercy is, 
" To day." You must choose your refuge speedily. One 
only hope is set before you ; and that is tried, sure, pre- 
cious, and freely offered you. Jesus Christ is now willing 
to undertake for your salvation, if you will surrender 
your soul to his care and government. Renounce every 
other hope and surrender yourself at his feet, and he will 
receive you and protect you in the coming day of judg- 
ment, and lead you up to the joys of everlasting holiness. 
If you have trusted in any other refuge, you have no time 
to lose. You cannot detain yourselves there with any 
safety to your souls. If you remain in it, you are lost. 
The judge is at the door. When you leave this house of 
your pilgrimage, you are in his presence. You look up, 
and lo ! the great day of his wrath is come. The refuge 
in which you trusted, is found to be a refuge of lies. It 
never brought God and you to a reconciliation in love. 
It only hardened you in presumption. It only helped 
you to slight all the love and mercy of the Saviour. And 
now the flames of consuming vengeance must reach you. 
The only opportunity of reconciliation is past. The Judge 
is come to take vengeance on all that know not God and 
have not obeyed the gospel. His eye of omniscience will 
find you out, and pour the light of insufferable brightness 
on all your guilt. His heart of mercy cannot now forgive 
you. His heart of holiness and righteousness must cast 
you off to hopeless misery. And his arm of Almighty 
power will imprison you, in your wretchedness, beyond 
all escape. 

In vain will j^ou contend with the Almighty in judg- 
ment. There will be no refuge from his wrath, when he 
shall have withdrawn the only refuge his mercy could 
grant, and have risen up with the attributes of omnis- 
cience and almighty power to execute judgment. Other 
refuges in which you trusted will be swept away, and 
your souls, unprotected, unreconciled to God and his 
holy government, must suffer the everlasting punishment 
which sin deserves and his righteous law denounces. 



No Refuge but Christ. 285 



The subject which I have been illustrating, shows the 
careless sinner that he is in danger of losing his soul, and 
the convicted sinner that he can find no safety but in im- 
mediate submission to Christ. 

Careless sinner, you have placed your reliance on some 
other foundation than Christ Jesus. Though you may 
speculatively believe in his person and offices as a Saviour, 
and think that you can have salvation in him, yet you do 
not repair to Him with an all-reposing confidence that 
brings you as a sinner, self-condemned and in despair of 
every other hope, at his feet to renounce your pride and 
selfishness and sin, and surrender yourself joyfully to him, 
to be saved only through his righteousness, and live onlv 
to his praise. He is not practically your chosen refuge — 
the one to which with all your heart you cling. You 
have repaired to some other shelter, in which you can 
indulge your chosen ways and refuse the self-denial and 
the cross of Christ. You have entered it, in order to 
abide the storm. You depend on it, and are at ease. 
And unless something shall arouse you, you will remain 
in that hope, till you perish with it beyond the pow r er of 
redemption. I invite you, then, to solemn consideration. 
You are acting in this life, whether you know it or not, 
with reference to the interests of your soul. You have 
now an opportunity to secure its salvation. You may go 
freely and cast it with full surrender on the care of Jesus 
Christ, and find in him that solid peace which arises from 
hearty- reconciliation with God, and that protection in 
the day of coming judgment, which will shield you from 
the curse of the violated law and elevate you to everlast- 
ing glory. Why, then, think of resting any where short 
of an actual surrender of your soul to Christ Jesus? 
Wherever else you place it, the storms of vengeance are 
to fall. Every other shelter is to place you amid the 
flames of retribution, without relief and mercy. And 
will you thus needlessly keep away that soul from the 
Saviour? Will you throw it into the fires of eternal judg- 
ment ? What, in the wide universe, calls on you to make 
this eternal sacrifice of your soul, when your way is open 



286 No Refuge but Christ. 



directly to God ? Give up that hope, which you cannot 
indulge without the guilt of suicide to the soul. It only 
deludes you with a false peace, and leaves you exposed 
to eternal ruin. It keeps you away from God, your duty, 
your happiness ; and only nourishes your pride, your 
sensuality and selfishness. Relinquish it at once. Do you 
fear to be without a hope? But you are in reality now 
without God and without hope. Will it make it any the 
worse, if you come so far to yourself as to see your real 
state of wretchedness? Will it place you any further 
from heaven, or any nearer destruction than you really 
are, to feel the truth that you are a condemned sinner, in 
absolute want of all things for your salvation, and that 
you must cast yourself on the mercy of Jesus Christ 
alone, or perish ? Unless you consent to take this very 
place, there is no hope for you. Every semblance of one, 
to which you cling, is but a delusion that keeps you away 
from Christ and hardens you in your pride and selfishness. 
Act then, in view of the judgment of God and the neces- 
sities of your soul. Slumber not in any delusion. Flat- 
ter not yourself in your own eyes. Let the fear of God 
be before you. " For the Lord shall rise up as in mount 
Perazim, he shall be wroth as in the valley of Gibeon, 
that he may do his work, his strange work ; that he may 
bring to pass his act, his strange act. For I have heard 
from the Lord God of Hosts a consumption, even deter- 
mined upon the whole earth." 

But the sinner, who is thoughtful and convinced of his 
need of salvation, has a deep interest in the subject which 
I have been illustrating. He is shown, that he can find no 
safety but in an immediate submission to Christ Jesus, his 
only Saviour and Lord. I know not whether there is one 
sinner here that carries within him a thoughtful and 
anxious heart to day. Yet every heart knoweth its own 
bitterness, and in many a bosom anxieties and convictions 
often spring up, which are not directly disclosed to man. 
And if any one before me is thus pining away in his sins, 
with secret convictions and apprehensions which he is 
striving to suppress, to him I will address myself. You 



No Refuge but Clirist. 287 

have, my fellow-sinner, at least ascertained one fact, — that, 
notwithstanding everything to which you may have looked 
for safety, your soul is still in danger ; exposed to the 
terrors of a guilty conscience, and the condemning sen- 
tence of your final Judge. You are wandering shelter- 
less, and find no solid rest for your soul. But there is no 
safety in remaining where you are. Your conviction and 
fears, will never make a refuge for you. There is no hope 
for you but one, and you must flee with all your heart to 
that refuge. This is your first duty, your immediate 
duty, and the longer you delay it, the more do you resist 
your own conviction and the strivings of the Spirit of 
God. The longer you delay it, the greater is the danger, 
that your deceitful heart and the wiles of the Adversary 
will lead you to fall back for hope and quietness to some 
refuge of lies. Come then at once to Jesus Christ, that 
you may obtain true rest and happiness to your soul. 
Come just as you are. You cannot render yourself any 
better or more deserving by delay. You must come in all 
the shame of your guilt and poverty, if you come at all. 
He is willing to receive you, if you will but renounce 
your sin and pride at his feet, and fully give up your soul 
to him, to receive from him your righteousness, sanctifica- 
tion and redemption. He is that High and Holy One, who 
sways the scepter over the universe, and who became a man 
of sorrows for the very purpose of offering you his salvation. 
He has put on the aspect and the very feelings of humanity, 
in order to come the nearer to our hearts. You may go 
and surrender yourself to him, with all the fearless confi- 
dence you would to any benevolent and righteous man, 
who should offer you his protection on any emergency. 
Only he is a thousand fold more pure in his righteousness, 
and more ardent in his benevolence and compassion ; and 
he is calling upon you, in an emergency as great as your 
everlasting condemnation to the wrath of God. He is 
that man, who shall be as a hiding place from the wind 
and a covert from the tempest. Oh ! let him draw you 
to his throne with the cords of his humanity and compas- 
sion. Give up yourself to him, whatever sacrifices it 



288 No Refuge but Christ. 



costs you, and take to your soul freely the joys of his 
salvation. Depend on him, from this hour and through 
life, as the Saviour to whom alone you look for salvation ; 
for whose favor you will forsake all things; to whose 
praise alone you desire to live; and in whose righteous- 
ness alone you would be found in the coming day of 
wrath. In this very way, Paul accepted of his Saviour. 
In this very way, he pressed forward through life in the 
Christian race, and threw himself over the goal at last as 
a victor, and laid hold on the crown of everlasting life 
and glory. " What things were gain to me, those I count- 
ed loss for Christ. Yea ! doubtless, and I count all things 
but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ 
Jesus my Lord : for whom I have suffered the loss of all 
things, and do count them but dross that I may win 
Christ and be found in him, not having mine own right- 
eousness which is of the law, but that which is through 
the faith of Christ — the righteousness which is of God by 
faith," — "the righteousness" which God, the Judge of all, 
will acknowledge in the last day, and in which he will 
accept the redeemed into his everlasting kingdom ! 

Who is there here, that will thus accept the Saviour? 
Who will thus enter into reconciliation with God ? Who 
will thus prepare for the judgment seat of Christ? Who 
will thus escape from the prison of despair, and enter into 
the inheritance of endless glory ? Methinks I hear one and 
another say, with trembling yet confiding faith, ' I will.' 
Take that resolve, returning sinner, with all thy heart ! 
Jesus is ready to receive thee to the refuge of his grace, 
and thou wilt never be ashamed of closing with his pro- 
posal of salvation. 



THE DUTY OF REPROOF. 



EPHESIANS, V: n. 



Have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness ; but 

rather reprove them. 

Works of darkness, literally, are those deeds of sin, 
which men would blush to commit under the light of 
day. But the desire of concealment, which throws so 
many crimes, actually, into the night, characterizes, to 
some extent, every species of overt iniquity ; and on this 
ground, all this class of actions are properly denominated 
" works of darkness " — unfit for the light of day. 

The apostle knew that his converts at Ephesus had 
once been addicted to such conduct, and that they were 
still surrounded by the children of disobedience, who 
were indulging in such iniquities ; and, in the text, he 
gives them counsel respecting their behavior towards 
these workers of iniquity. Have no fellowship with their 
deeds. Never join them in their sins. Never encourage 
them by example. Never allow yourselves to do that, 
which they can plausibly allege in their own justification ; 
" but rather reprove them." Let your conduct stand 
forth as a sentence of condemnation against their sins. 
Let your opinions be known to carry with them a holy 
indignation against their crimes. Reprove them. Go, 
bear the indignation and grief of your hearts into their 
presence ; and tell them — when no other eye sees them 
but yours and }^our Maker's — tell them their faults to 
their face. Carry the expostulations of love to their ears, 
and, with all the persuasion you can draw from the word 
of Christ, claim a hearing. 

Such, are the directions of the apostle to Christians, 
who were surrounded hy the sinful deeds of the wicked — ■ 

33 



290 The Duty of Reproof . 



not only to slum the fellowship with them that would be 
ruinous to themselves, but to carry to them the reproof 
that might lead to their salvation. I learn from the 
words, therefore, a duty which belongs to the friends of 
God and virtue in all ages, when surrounded by the 
crimes of the wicked — THE DUTY OF REPROOF. 

In pursuing the subject, I would point out some of the 
methods, in which you may with propriety reprove the 
wicked for their sins, and mention some considerations 
which may serve to enforce this duty. 

Among the methods, in which yon may with propriety 
reprove the wicked for their sins, 1 specify the following : 

I. By refusal to comply with their enticements. 

The slightest species of reproof that can be given to 
sinners, arises from the refusal to unite with them in their 
crimes. When they are grown so bold in iniquity, as to 
solicit the followers of Christ to come down from the 
height of their profession and hopes, to unite with them 
in their sins and follies, the mildest reproof that can .pos- 
sibly be given is, to return to their solicitations a prompt 
and decided negative. Unless the Christian can give so 
slight a reproof to a sinner, as to say ' no ' to his entice- 
ments, the sinner will never fear reproofs from his exam- 
ple or his lips. Nor is there any impropriety in using 
with sinners this species of reproof. They have no claim 
on you, surely, to unite with them in their deeds of folly. 
You are lords over your own conduct, and may make 
your own choice, without saying why or wherefore to 
any but your Master in heaven. In the exercise of your 
unalienable rights, you may throw a flat denial in the face 
of every enticing sinner ; and by it effectually say, ' Go 
thy way. When 1 have need of thee, I will call for thee. 
Obtrude not on me thy sinful schemes. Take the reprool 
my denial gives thee.' 

I I. Yon may reprove the wicked, by an example opposed 
to their practices. 

A still stronger reproof is thus conveyed to the wicked, 
by the light that is reflected upon them from examples of 
piety and virtue. The man who always carries with him 



The Duty of Reproof . 291 



into their society the stern fronl oi unyielding virtue; 
who is known by his uniform conduct to bear in his breast 
sentiments oi abhorrence and indignation towards crime; 
who shows himseli so firmly attached to the government 
of God, and the schemes of divine benevolence, as to 
repel even the approaches of their solicitations; speaks, 
with silent and impressive eloquence, the language oi 
reproof to their consciences. Incomparably more is done 
by the heavenly light attending such reproof, than can be 
by all the reproofs oi the tongue without it. The wicked 
see in such examples the mirror, that reflects the glory oi 
the Deity, the authority of his law, the excellence of 
virtue, the deformity of sin. They stand 

" Abashed, and sec how awful goodness is." 

And in the midst of such exhibitions of character, they 
pass on themselves the verdict oi condemnation for their 
sins. 

Nor is there any impropriety in bearing to the wicked 
this form of reproof. Your right to obey the God of 
heaven, to show your loyalty — no man can wrest from 
you. You need only be loyal and be virtuous among 
your companions, and the living reproof is carried home 
to their consciences. As it has been eloquently remarked 
of our republican country, that her very existence carries 
up a reproof to the throne of tyrants, and a refutation of 
all the arguments by which they would uphold arbitrary 
rule, so the very existence of stern piety and virtue is 
itself a stinging reproof to- the wdeked, and a loud con- 
demnation of their guilt and folly. 

Ml. You may reprove the wicked, by direct address to 
f heir consciences. 

The highest form of reproof, is that of bearing to the 
wicked the direct expression of virtuous grief and indig- 
nation, which their conduct excites in your souls. When, 
in refusing communion with them in their evil deeds, or 
in exhibiting before them virtuous examples, you tacitly 
convey reproof to their consciences, it may not be so 
apparent to them that you design particularly to reprove 



292 The Duty of Reproof. 



them for their ways ; and they may neglect, on their own 
part, faith fully to make an application to themselves of a 
reproof, which they share in common with many others. 
But when, in the spirit of meekness that disarms opposi- 
tion, yon go to the sinner, and pour into his ear the 
recital of his crimes, the complaints of injured virtue, the 
warnings of interceding grace ; his conscience owns, in 
you, a messenger of God, come to administer the right- 
eous and merciful reproofs of incensed, yet forbearing 
love. This direct address is reproof, that singles him out 
to his own conscience ; and forces him to draw off his 
attention from the guilt of others to his own, with the 
irresistible application, " Thou art the man." He views 
his crimes through the unprejudiced feelings of a friend 
to virtue. Conscience is against him, and with his re- 
prover : and there arises a mighty struggle in his mind 
betwixt the opposing powers of sin and virtue ; a struggle 
which must end, either in the awful victory of guilt over 
conscience, or in the victory, forever blest, of conscience 
over guilt. 

Nor is there any impropriety in using this most power- 
ful and most salutary form of reproof. Your tongues 
were given you for use; and though there are certain 
bounds of propriety and wisdom in the use, with respect 
to the age, and station, and character, and circumstances, 
of those whom you address, of which God has given all 
of you, 1 hope, reason and common sense enough to 
judge ; yet these limitations of wisdom form no argument 
against the legitimate use. To what use can they better 
be appropriated, than to doing good ? Some may make 
too much of their tongues in this matter ; but others too 
little. Yet no man can deny you the right to use, for the 
benefit of others, this glory of your frame. You should, 
therefore, stand firm in this liberty wherewith God your 
Maker has endowed you. 

With this view of the proper methods of administering 
reproof, I would now turn your attention to sonic of the 
considerations, which should inspire you with resolution to 
perform the duty. 



The Duty of Reproof . 293 



1. You have on your side the authority of God. God 
said, through Paul, to his children at Ephesus, while 
surrounded with the crimes and iniquities of the Gen- 
tiles, and says in effect to his children in all ages, respect- 
ing the iniquitous among whom their lot is cast, " Reprove 
them." He has issued forth his warrant to all his friends 
on the earth, to be reprovers of the vicious. He has bid- 
den them take the counsels and warnings of his word, and 
administer the reproofs of his offended, yet waiting love, 
to those who are his enemies. The command has reached 
your ear. ''Reprove them," by every method of wisdom 
and love. With the warrant of his authority, you are 
safe. He will protect you and bless you, while on his 
errands of mercy ; and give you a mouth and wisdom, 
which no adversary will be able to gainsay or resist. 
Carry home the power of religion to their hearts. " Who 
will harm you," if, under his authority, "ye be followers of 
that which is good?" Will you shrink before his ene- 
mies ? Shall a face of flesh and blood move you from 
your purposed obedience to God ? How, from so humili- 
ating a vanquishment, can you return to the throne of 
grace, or appear at the throne of judgment, and face the 
God of all power ? Have faith in God ; and be strong to 
reprove his enemies. 

2. You have on your side the examples of all the wise 
and holy. 

God and all his faithful servants have ever acted as 
reprovers of sin. God, in the laws of his government, 
the arrangements of his providence, and the messages of 
his word, is engaged in administering solemn reproof to 
his enemies. The Lord Jesus, the high pattern you pro- 
pose to copy into your lives, during his embassy to earth, 
and while dwelling among the enemies of God, was no 
idle spectator of those sins, by which they were wounding 
infinite purity and goodness, and ruining themselves and 
others. He took the part of God against an evil world ; 
and resisted all its temptations and offers ; and held before 
it the unsullied light of his example and precepts, to show 
its deformity. He addressed to its hardened sons the 



294 The Duty of Reproof ". 



reproofs of indignant love, — not consulting to please him- 
self, but to perform his duty, — till he could cry, with the 
prophet, unto God his Father, " The reproaches of them 
that reproached thee, fell on me." The Spirit of grace, 
in the mission he is accomplishing, is engaged in reproving 
a guilt)' world ol sin, and in carrying home to the con- 
sciences of individual sinners the stern rebukes of God's 
unbending word. You are countenanced in reproving 
sin, by all the faithful servants of God ; by Enoch, Noah, 
Abraham, Lot, and all the patriarchs; by Moses, Elijah, 
Isaiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, and all the prophets; by Peter, 
James, Paul, and all the apostles ; by all the friends of 
God, from the foundation of the world to this day, whose 
bodies are deposited with us, whose souls are in heaven, 
and whose memories are embalmed in the records of the 
Church ;.and by all, in every place on earth, who are now 
the followers of Christ in sincerity and truth : in whose 
lives and on whose lips dwells the law of truth and kind- 
ness. All this cloud of worthies, with the great God at 
their head, have arrayed their example before you, while 
surrounded by the filthy conversation of the wicked, to 
have no fellowship with them, but boldly to reprove. 
Will you not then associate yourselves with this company 
of the worth}', in their noble deeds ? How can you 
expect to meet their approbation, or share in their 
triumphs, if you enter not with them into their labors 
of love ? 

3. You have on your side the interests of the Church. 

How long will it take the professed followers of Christ, 
to learn that they cannot maintain a neutrality in the 
world ? that the enemies of God are enemies ? and that 
the mere attempt at neutrality is a concession made them, 
next to base submission? Oh, how humiliating to be 
governed, and trampled on, and triumphed over, by the 
enemies of God, — when a decided fidelity, and a bold 
reproof administered to them for their sins, would lift you 
high above their power, and put ten thousand to flight ! 

The Church of God is not capable of flourishing, except 
as she embosoms within her that energy of holy purpose 



The Dit t) • of Rep roof. 295 



and example, and speaks forth the word of God in that 
tone of boldness, which administers reproof to the negli- 
gent, the worldly, the vicious,- the hardened, who sur- 
round her, and who assail her peace and welfare. Arrayed 
in this glory, she strikes dismay into the host of her foes; 
she spreads abroad the conquests of her King ; and even 
collects the vanquished with joy around her standard of 
Eternal Life. The time of her reproofs is the time of her 
safety and her triumphs. Within her borders is purity, 
light, hope, jov : and without, terror, dismay, shame, sub- 
mission. Even they that despised her, come bending to 
her, calling her. the City of the Lord, the Holv One of 
Israel. 

Yield not up. then, the everlasting interests of religion 
and the Church to the follies of man. Assert the honor of 
your high calling, and boldlv carry reproof to the enemies 
of Zion. Self-defense, the first law of nature, and defense 
of Christ's cause, the first law of Christianity, unite to 
call you to this holy purpose, and to arm you with a 
vigorous resolution. 

4. You have on your side the welfare of sinners tliem- 
s elves. 

The works of sin and darkness to which they addict 

themselves, are unfruitful in anything: but evil. They are 

o 

ruining themselves and their companions in guilt : for the 
wages of sin is death. They will not escape, unless they 
are reclaimed from their sins and errors. They are sear- 
ing their consciences, blasting their reputation, destroy- 
ing their comforts, and plunging their souls in eternal 
flames : and how shall they be recalled to virtue and to 
happiness, ii they are neglected, unrestrained, and un- 
reproved by the friends of God ? Where is their hope, if 
none possess disinterested love enough, to address to them 
the reproofs that are necessary to their salvation ? A 
sinner unreproved, grows bold in iniquity. A sinner 
unreproved. spreads wide the contagion of sin. He is 
daily adding to his guilt, and fitting himself and others 
for more aggravated woe. You are then guilty of a cruel 
neglect of his welfare and influence : if. while knowing his 



296 The Ditty of Reproof. 



faults, and knowing how freely they are published and 
censured behind his back, and knowing how they are 
bringing down on his soul the insupportable judgments 
of heaven, you do not, at once, bear into his presence 
the rebukes and counsels of Infinite Love. The Scrip- 
tures impliedly charge this cruelty on those who neglect 
the duty, by the form in which they enjoin it : " Thou 
shalt not hate thy brother in thy heart: thou shalt in any 
wise rebuke thy neighbor ; and shalt not suffer sin upon 
him." 

But, when you administer the faithful rebukes of love to 
sinners around you, you are seeking by necessary means 
the high object of " saving their souls from death, and 
hiding a multitude of sins." Their feelings may be 
wounded, while stung with a view of their deformities 
and the indignations of virtue ; but you are only probing, 
to heal ; you are but administering the necessary medicine, 
to effect a recovery. Their consciences, even at the time, 
and forever afterwards, do justice to you, in testifying to 
your self-denying kindness ; and if, subdued and melted by 
your reproofs, they are recovered to virtue, their hearts 
will forever bless you, as the kindest of benefactors. 
Hundreds now on earth are joyfully walking, arm in arm, 
the way to the heavenly Zion, who once met each other 
in the unpleasant relation of reprovers and reproved, and 
were mingling over reproved guilt their tears of bitter- 
ness. And thousands now in glory are praising God, for 
those kind benefactors who, overlooking the trials they 
might meet with from ingratitude and guilt, dared, un- 
solicited, to address to them the rebukes of Infinite 
Mercy. 

The very welfare of sinners, then, here and in eternity, 
demands of you fidelity in this duty — demands that you 
have no fellowship with them in works of darkness, but 
that you boldly reprove. 

In view, then, of the methods in which }^ou may convey 
reproof to sinners, and of the considerations which 
encourage and embolden you to do it, I would call upon 
all the friends of God among you to perform this duty. 



The Duty of Reproof. 297 



There is always a sufficient call for its performance in this 
world of evil. You need not go back to the ancient 
heathen of Ephesus — you need not go abroad to be- 
nighted Pagans — you need not search out the dark por- 
tions of this Christian country — you need not, probably, 
look beyond the limits of your own neighborhood — to 
find those who are engaged in the unfruitful works of 
darkness. It is your lot, as it has been of the Church in 
all ages, to be surrounded by the wickedness of blinded 
sinners. Travelers with you to eternity — without God 
and without hope — they imperiously demand of you a 
faithful discharge of this duty. 

" Be strong and do it." Let no leaven of iniquity 
among yourselves, corrupt with inefficiency the whole 
mass. Let no root of bitterness spring up to defile many 
— to hide the light of example, and stifle the voice that 
would administer reproof. 

" Be strong and do it." Fear not the sneers of the 
impious, or the displeasure of the reproved. The God 
of Israel and the hosts of the wise are with you, the 
interests of Zion and of sinners are with you, in the per- 
formance of this duty. 

" Be strong and do it." And Zion shall arise. The 
glory of the Lord shall compass her, as with walls of fire. 
Her enemies shall be subdued into contrition. Converts 
shall be multiplied as the drops of the morning. Joy 
shall be awakened on earth and in heaven over reclaimed 
and forgiven sinners. 

In view of this duty, and the considerations which urge 
it upon the friends of God, I may surely warn the workers 
of iniquity, to receive reproofs with humility and gratitude. 

You are reproved by the word of the living God. You 
are reproved by your own conscience. And, if you are 
not that hardened scorner, who mocks at all things 
serious, you may be favored with the reproofs of man. 
Remember, that he, who in love reproves you, is a friend 
— a true friend — a tried friend — whose love has broken 
through many obstacles to meet you with its warnings ; 
and who brings to you the appeals of truth and soberness 

39 



298 The Duty of Reproof. 



— who comes, commissioned of God, and countenanced 
by all the good and wise, to urge the interests of true 
piety, and to seek the salvation of your soul. I adjure 
you by the living Saviour, trifle not with reproof. It is 
one of the last remedies of divine forbearance. Unless 
you are humbled by it before God, I am compelled to 
say, you are fast ripening for ruin. Slighted reproofs 
accumulate the stores of divine wrath. He that will not 
receive severe remedies, and who cannot be restored by 
mild ones, must die ! Oh ! hear it, ye that sport your- 
selves in your own deceivings, on the borders of eternity, 
— hear it : it is the last, kind warning of injured, insulted 
Mercy — " HE THAT, BEING OFTEN REPROVED, HARDENETH 
HIS NECK, SHALL SUDDENLY BE DESTROYED, AND THAT 
WITHOUT REMEDY ! ' : Sinners, there is awful meaning in 
those words of God ! 



THE CAUSE OF JEHOVAH AGAINST BAAL, TRIED 
BEFORE ISRAEL ON CARMEL. 



I. KINGS, XVIII: 17—46. 



The portion of sacred history, to which I have referred, 
is an account of the cause of Jehovah* against Baal, tried 
before Israel at the altar of sacrifice on Carmel. . 

This trial was instituted by the prophet Elijah, in behalf, 
and under the direction, of Jehovah. The circumstances, 
which gave rise to the trial, were these: Three years 
before, Elijah, offended with the great sin of Ahab in 
introducing the service of Baal into Israel, had sol- 
emnly sworn to that monarch, that there should not be 
rain or dew in the land any more, except at his word. 
He then left the presence of Ahab, and withdrawing 
from the land of Israel, lived in concealment at Zareptha, 
in Zidon. But now, the famine which arose in conse- 
quence of the drouth, pressed sorely on all the inhabit- 
ants of the land ; and Jehovah, remembering mercy 
towards his afflicted people, ordered the prophet to leave 
his concealment and appear at the court. " Go, show 
thyself unto Ahab : and I will send rain upon the earth." 
With this command and promise of God, directing and 
upholding him, he was emboldened, not only to face the 
incensed monarch again, but to require of him, as the 
condition on which the mercy of the rain should be 

* In the treatment of this subject, I prefer to use the specific name, Jeho- 
vah — as employed in the original Hebrew. Our translators have put in its 
place the generic title, the Lord, in every instance in the Old Testament but 
four: following, instead of the original, the Septuagint version ; the work of 
lewish translators, who, in their superstitious reverence at that period for the 
unpronounceable name, Jehovah, neither introduced it nor translated it, but 
substituted the latter title for it. 



300 The Cause of Jehovah against Baal, 



granted, that he should give an opportunity for a public 
trial, before the people, of the cause of Jehovah and Baal. 
The account of his appearance before the monarch, is 
thus stated: (v. 17, 18, 19:) " And it came to pass, that 
when Ahab saw Elijah, that Ahab said unto him : Art 
thou he that troubleth Israel ? And he answered, / have 
not troubled Israel ; but thou and thv fathers house, in 
that ye have forsaken the commandments of the Lord, and 
thou hast followed Baalim. Now, therefore, send and 
gather to me all Israel unto Mount Carmel, and the 
prophets of Baal four hundred and fifty, and the prophets 
of the groves four hundred, which eat at Jezebel's table." 
This was a bold summons to address to an offended mon- 
arch ; but there was infinite power back of the prophet : 
and starvation by famine, or deliverance through this 
hated prophet, was the only alternative set before the 
king: so the summons is obeyed, and* the opportunity 
presented for Jehovah to establish his authority over the 
hearts of his people, and prepare them to receive the 
blessing, (v. 20.) " So Ahab sent unto all the children of 
Israel, and gathered the prophets together unto Mount 
Carmel." 

The national assembly is convened on Carmel. The 
mountain range known by that name, rises gently from the 
plain of Esdraelon to the height of fifteen hundred feet, and 
runs a few miles to the northwest ; when, sloping down 
into a promontory, it dips its foot in the waters of the 
Mediterranean. Covered over its whole sloping and 
rolling surface with a rich soil, it is, in usual seasons, 
adorned with a luxuriant vegetation, from which it de- 
rives its name, Carmel, — a vineyard or fruitful field ; and, 
for its graceful form and rich verdure, it was set forth as 
an image of beauty and fertility by the Hebrew poets. 
But now, scorched by the drought of three years, its 
excellency is faded. Here, on this mountain eleva- 
tion, on the north-eastern side, probably, which looks 
towards Jezreel, the city of Ahab, and towards the brook 
Kishon flowing at its base, the vast assembly are gathered. 
Ahab, the king, in his pavilion with his attendants; the 



Tried before Israel on Carmel. 301 



prophets of Baal, on the one hand, and Elijah, the prophet 
of Jehovah on the other, — the opposing advocates ; — and, 
at a respectful distance around and below, the thousands 
of Israel who are to witness the trial and abide the judg- 
ment pronounced from heaven. 

Let us now look at the trial, directing our attention, 
particularly, to the point that was in dispute ; the method 
agreed upon for conducting the trial ; the process of con- 
ducting it; and the judgment obtained, with its effect 
upon Israel. 

I. The point that was to enter into trial, and on which 
the issue rested, was stated by Elijah at the opening, 
when before the people he entered his complaint, (v. 21.) 
"And Elijah came unto all the people." With slow and 
dignified step, his flowing mantle about him, the prophet 
leaves his station near the king, and advances towards the 
multitudes of Israel, that his voice may be more clearly 
heard by all the parties, (v. 21.) "And he said, — How 
long halt ye between two opinions? If Jehovah be God, 
follow him : but if Baal, then follow him." He com- 
plains of their halting, like a lame person, from side to 
side, between Jehovah and Baal; as if it were a matter 
of indifference which they followed as their leader ; as if 
they might manage to keep in favor with both and offend 
neither. He asks them how long they will allow them- 
selves to continue, as they have done in their past histor} 7 , 
to keep wavering and fluctuating between two opinions 
so utterly at variance, as whether the God they ought to 
worship is Jehovah or Baal : and he proposes that, now, 
in presence of the advocates of both deities, they bring 
this question to a decided issue, — whether they will 
choose, as their God, Jehovah only and forever, following 
him with all the heart in their worship, conduct and 
hopes ; or whether, forsaking him, they will take Baal, 
and Baal only, and transfer all their interest and hopes 
forever to his care. 

The question turns on the truth and righteousness of 
the claims of Jehovah or Baal: whether the self-existent 
and eternal Jehovah, who brought their fathers out of 
Egypt through the hand of Moses, with tokens of Al- 



302 The Cause of Jehovah against Baal, 



mighty power, and established them on their land, should 
be acknowledged as their God : or Baal, the great heav- 
enly luminary, the sun, whom the surrounding nations at 
that period, Phoenicia, Chaldea and Moab, worshipped as 
the generative principle of life. Whether they should 
follow Jehovah, in the rites of worship and the com- 
mandments he had given through Moses, or follow Baal, 
after the custom of the nations, in the impurity practised 
in the groves, and the cruelty of sacrificing their children 
in the fires. 

This question was calmly proposed and submitted by 
this solitary prophet of Jehovah, in presence of the 
numerous prophets of Baal, who felt themselves strong 
in the royal patronage of the queen, their fellow-country- 
woman and foster-mother, and strong in the countenance 
of Ahaband the people, whom they had flattered in their 
sins and led away from the pure service of Jehovah. 
Yet, opposed by such fearful human odds, Elijah that day 
felt strong in the truth and righteousness of his cause, 
and in the presence and power of the living God. 

The question now submitted to the people, was received 
by them in silence, (v. 21.) "And the people answered 
him not a word." This was one point gained, to have 
the people receive a question, which so much reflected on 
themselves, with silent acquiescence, as if willing to hear 
the cause and abide the issue. 

II. The prophet next proposes to Israel a method of 
trying in their presence the cause of these conflicting 
deities, and obtaining a decisive judgment on their oppos- 
ing claims : and this method is, to test the ability of each 
to answer the prayer of his servants, (v. 22 — 24.) " Then 
said Elijah unto the people, I, even I only, remain a 
prophet of Jehovah : but Baal's prophets are four hun- 
dred and fifty men. Let them therefore give us two bul- 
locks : and let them choose one bullock for themselves, 
and cut it in pieces, and lay it on wood, and put no fire 
under : and I will dress the other bullock, and lay it on 
wood, and put no fire under : and call ye on the name of 
your gods, and I will call on the name of Jehovah ; and 
the God that answereth by fire, let him be God." 



Tried before Israel on Carmel. 303 



The method of obtaining judgment proposed by the 
prophet, is reasonable and fair. Surely if one deity, when 
called upon by his servant to prove his claims, shall send 
down fire from heaven upon his own sacrifice, and the 
other shall not, then it will appear which one is the true 
God ; with which one is lodged the treasury of all power ; 
which one can defend his own honor, and hear and bless 
his servants ; and which one, being inattentive to both, is 
feeble and false, and altogether unworthy of worship and 
confidence. In regard to the sacrifices, too, all the favor 
asked by Elijah is, that, as he is alone, poor and without 
human patronage, and the prophets of Baal are many 
and enjoy the patronage of royal wealth, the latter should 
be at the expense of furnishing the victims: while to 
them he would grant the choice of their own victim, and 
the opportunity of sacrificing first, with all the advantage 
they might hope to derive from the length of time in 
their favor. 

In proposing this method of trial at the altar, the 
prophet stood committed for the honor of his God before 
the people, if they accept his offer. But he has, as ap- 
pears afterwards from his prayer, an order from Jehovah, 
and he has sufficient faith in his wonder-working pres- 
ence, to warrant him to risk all on the result. In the case 
of ordinary men, however, not endowed with prophetic 
gifts or favored with immediate revelations from heaven, 
the example cannot be pleaded as a warrant or permission 
even, to try the Lord by appeals to him for miraculous 
interposition. He will be tried and proved by the suppli- 
cations of his people at large, only in reference to the 
promises he has made, and those ordinary works of his 
providence and grace by which he accomplishes them. 

But here now is a prophet standing before Israel, di- 
rected of Jehovah, strong in the faith of his wonder- 
working presence, desiring to call back the descendants 
of Israel to him, the God of their fathers ; and before all, 
he puts at issue the question between the claims of 
Jehovah and Baal, on the judgment to be declared by fire 



304 The Cause of Jehovah against Baal, 



from heaven, in answer to prayer which each party is to 
offer at the altar of sacrifice. 

The method of trial proposed to the people, met their 
approbation : as it is said, (v. 24.) " And all the people 
answered and said, it is well spoken." Surely, if the 
prophet of Jehovah objects not to make this trial of his 
God, it becomes the people to abide the issue, nor suffer 
the prophets of Baal to withdraw from the contest by 
refusing - the challenge. 

The method of conducting it being settled, the process 
of trial now ensues. Elijah, sustained by the voice of 
the whole people, turns to the prophets of Baal, and calls 
upon them to take their part in the trial first, (v. 25.) 
" And Elijah said unto the prophets of Baal, choose you 
one bullock for yourselves and dress it first : for ye are 
many ; and call on the name of your gods, but put no fire 
under." This direction was in accordance with the pro- 
posal which the people had accepted ; and gave full scope 
for the many priests of Baal, by beginning with the day, 
to consume what time might be necessary to a thorough 
and satisfactory trial. However much they may have 
hated the situation in which they were now placed, yet 
as they were bound and held by the voice of all Israel, 
they could not refuse to enter upon the trial of their 
cause, without giving it up at once as defenseless, and 
bringing down the rage of the people upon themselves, as 
deceivers and the authors, as Elijah claimed, of the calam- 
ities that had come upon Israel. 

Accordingly, they take upon them the trial of the cause 
of Baal, after this sort, (v, 26.) " And they took the bul- 
lock which was given them," — i. e. either furnished by the 
people without their expense, or the one which the judges 
among them had selected and brought to their body — 
" and they dressed it, and called on the name of Baal, 
from morning even until noon, saying, O Baal, Hear us." 

For four hours or more, the people of Israel stand 
in the scorching rays of a summer sun, that is burning 
the world with drouth, and hear four hundred and 
fifty prophets of Baal vociferate, in a horrid jargon, 



Tried before Israel on Carmel. 305 



the vain repetition, " O Baal, hear us, O Baal, hear 
us ! " What think they, at this time of high noon, of Baal ? 
What mercy has he on his worshipers; what regard to 
his own honor ; what care of his public servants ; what 
ears to hear, or heart to feel : that he will allow all his 
prophets to unite so long in calling on his name, in vain ? 
They shout ; they cry ; (v. 26.) " but," says the account, 
" there was no voice, nor any that answered." 

Failing of success, as noon arrives they grow more 
furious and frantic. " And," the history proceeds, (v. 26,) 
" they leaped upon the altar which was made." How lit- 
tle respect to their god and his altar have they, thus to leap 
up, and trample upon the unburnt sacrifice ! No doubt, 
at this hour of trial, the sight of their own victim was a 
torment. No doubt they wished in their hearts to tram- 
ple both the victim and altar into the dust, that both might 
disappear from the sight of the waiting people : but they 
only set forth themselves as frantic madmen, who in vain 
kindle up the fires of passion in their own hearts, to 
deceive a people waiting to see a material flame descend 
from heaven to burn up the victim. 

But these prophets have already consumed much time, 
and the prophet Elijah, now that their fury is at its height, 
as if desirous to hasten the process and relieve the waiting 
people, suggests some reasons why, perhaps, their god 
does not hear them : reasons which, though they burn 
and scathe the false prophets and their god, may open 
the eyes of Israel to the folly of heeding such delusions. 
For sarcasm, like the lancet, proves a salutary instrument, 
when it saves the whole body, at the expense only of a 
deadly fungus fastened on its life. (v. 27.) " And it 
came to pass at noon, that Elijah mocked them, and said : 
cry aloud : for he is a god," — i. e., you say he is — " either 
he is talking, or he is pursuing, or he is on a journey, or 
peradventure he sleepeth and must be awaked." 

Israel, I imagine, who had been taught, through Moses, 
ideas, which could not have been wholly effaced, of a God 
who made heaven and earth ; who is ever present in all 
his works and with all his creatures ; and who never 

40 



306 The Cause of Jehovah against Baal, 



slumbereth ; Israel must have seen the ridiculous folly of 
these priests, in the dilemma to which they were now 
brought by the opposing prophet of Jehovah. For their 
Baal either will not or cannot hear. If he will not, at a 
time when his honor and service are all at stake, and are 
now become the ridicule of the opposing party, surely he 
can claim no more the respect and confidence of the 
people. If he cannot ; if he is prevented, as men often 
are, by previous engagement in conversation or amuse- 
ment in the chase, or by absence on journeys, or by sleep, — 
is it not ridiculous to be waiting in vain at his doors with 
petitions and wants, to which the people can as well 
attend themselves ? 

It would seem, therefore, that these prophets, unan- 
swered by their deity, must have given up the trial of 
their cause at this time as utterly hopeless, when they 
saw both their god and themselves become the ridicule 
of the whole assembled multitude. 

But the maddened and phrenzied worshipers of false 
gods, usually attempt to make themselves objects of 
compassion by self-inflicted cruelties ; as if, knowing 
themselves to be astray, they would punish themselves 
enough to purchase of others sympathy and impunity in 
their sins. This device was still left as a last resort. So 
these prophets, in their straits, now strive to turn the tide 
of ridicule, by attempting to arouse sympathy and com- 
passion, (v. 28.) " And they cried aloud and cut them- 
selves, after their manner, with knives and lancets, till the 
blood gushed out upon them." But these appeals to 
compassion cannot turn away the thoughts of the people 
from waiting for the approving signal from heaven : and 
so,, as they gash their bleeding persons, they seem as if 
only anticipating the pains and penalties of defeat, and 
as having begun with their own hands the work of their 
execution and death. 

But to give them every advantage, the prophet Elijah 
still longer delays to enter upon the trial of the cause 
of Jehovah ; and the prophets of Baal, as if to continue a 
lolly they know not how to cease, and render them- 



Tried before Israel on Carmel. 307 



selves still more ridiculous, continue their vain incan- 
tations till the time of evening sacrifice. But it was car- 
ried to that length and satiety, that not only their god 
would not answer, but even their fellow-men would not 
regard them any more : as the history states, (v. 29.) " And 
it came to pass, when mid-day was past, and they prophe- 
sied until the time of the evening sacrifice, that there was 
neither voice, nor any to answer, nor any that regarded." 
No voice nor answer from above, as was before stated, 
nor, as is now added, any that give their attention more 
in the assembly of Israel. 

The time was now come for Elijah to try the cause of 
Jehovah ; for the people, disgusted with the false prophets, 
were ready to give their undivided attention to his offer- 
ing, nor suffer, as at an earlier hour they might have done, 
the false prophets to seize some portion of the fire as it 
fell, and claim it as their own. (v. 30.) " And Elijah said 
unto all the people, come near unto me. And all the 
people came near unto him. And he repaired the altar of 
Jehovah that was broken down." That broken and neg- 
lected altar, which once was honored with the service of 
Jehovah, was now again to be consecrated to his service, 
and honored by the tokens of his presence. But that 
was not the altar he was to take for the trial. He builds 
another for the purpose, (v. 30.) " And Elijah took twelve 
stones, according to the number of the tribes of the sons 
of Jacob, unto whom the word of Jehovah came, saying, 
Israel shall be thy name. And with the stones he built 
an altar in the name of Jehovah." An impressive lesson 
to those sons of Israel who are thronging around the 
prophet: to remind them of that patriarch head, who 
was blessed by Jehovah, and by the wrestling angel 
named Israel or ' power with God,' and to set before them 
the obligation of their being unitedly consecrated to the 
service of Jehovah, Jacob's God. To render the trial 
beyond the power of any deception, as to fire, and make 
more signal the interposition of Jehovah, he takes the 
following measure of precaution, (v. 32.) "And he made 
a trench about the altar as great as would contain two 



308 The Cause of Jehovah against Baal, 



measures of seed;" i. e., the superficial extent of which 
would require, if strewed with seed for planting, two 
seahs or third parts of an ephah, equal to more than a 
half bushel of our measure: a very broad trench around 
the four sides of the altar, (v. 33.) " And he put the 
wood in order, and cut the bullock in pieces, and laid him 
on the wood and said, Fill four barrels with water, and 
pour it on the burnt sacrifice and on the wood." The 
water, it may be remarked, might have been taken from 
the brook Kishon, which flowed at the base of Carmel, 
and which, fed by the springs of this mountain range, had 
not yet wholly ceased to flow, after the long drought, 
(v. 34, 35.) "And he said, Do it the second time. And 
they did it the second time. And he said, Do it the third 
time. And they did it the third time. And the water 
ran round about the altar. And he filled the trench also 
with water." Twelve barrels of water were thus taken 
to the altar by these descendants of Israel, at the com- 
mand of the prophet, to make sure and signal the inter- 
position of Jehovah, the God whom Jacob worshipped. 

The time had now come for Elijah to call on Jehovah, 
to defend his own glory and cause, by sending down fire 
to consume the sacrifice, (v. 36.) " And it came to pass, 
at the time of the offering of the evening sacrifice, that 
Elijah, the prophet, came near and said." He drew nigh 
the altar, all Israel intent to hear and witness. The 
prophets of Baal were silent, (or, if continuing their 
incantations, by their hoarse and faint murmurings adding 
only to the dignity of the prophet) and, in a calm, rational, 
confident manner, he addressed this prayer — a model of 
faith and devotedness — to the God whom he worships. 
(v. 36, 37.) " Jehovah, God of Abraham, Isaac and of Israel, 
let it be known this day that thou art God in Israel, and 
that I am thy servant, and that I have done all these things 
at thy word. Hear me, Jehovah, hear me, that this people 
may know that thou, Jehovah, art God, and that thou 
hast turned their heart back again." He appeals to his 
God, as Jehovah, the Being of infinite perfection ; the God 
who, by his promises and faithfulness in the past to Abra- 



Tried before Israel on Carmel. 309 



ham, Isaac and Jacob, stands engaged to uphold his cause 
in every age ; he pleads with him to grant the decisive 
token of the fire, for the sake of upholding his own honor 
and service in Israel. The prophet, in his plea, would 
merge himself and all the surrounding people of Israel, 
as mere subordinates, that Jehovah would put honor on 
his own name and service, by upholding his cause in the 
hands of his prophet, and causing Israel to turn back in 
their hearts from the service of Baal, with acknowledg- 
ment of his newly manifested glory and claims. 

In this signal prayer, — full of faith in God, and breath- 
ing a pure desire for his glory, — the prophet has touched 
the heart of the self-existent One ; he has set in motion 
that living energy, that originates, upholds, and sways at 
will, all power and might within this vast creation. 

The prayer is uttered. The prophet is silent. All 
Israel expectant, await the signal. The prophets of Baal, — 
dusty, bleeding, ashamed and forgotten, — are looking from 
their disfigured altar and victim askance toward the altar 
of Elijah. Ahab trembles lest the poise should turn, to 
sink his flatterers and elevate his faithful reprover. When 
lo ! judgment is declared ; the contest is decided ; Jeho- 
vah and his prophet are victorious ! 

(v. 38.) " Then the fire of Jehovah fell, and consumed 
the burnt sacrifice, and the wood, and the stones, and the 
dust, and licked up the water that was in the trench." 
What signal power, that consumes not only the wood and 
victim, but every vestige and memorial of those who 
would call in question the power and majesty of Jehovah ! 

The effects of this declaration of judgment are seen, in 
the immediate decision of Israel to take Jehovah as their 
God, and in their fulfilling, at the command of the prophet, 
the trying duty, required in the law given to them through 
Moses, of executing the false prophets. Israel are moved 
to declare for Jehovah, (v. 39.) " And when all the people 
saw it, they fell on their faces : and they said, Jehovah, 
he is the God ; Jehovah, he is the God." Bowed down 
to the earth in fear and reverence, all acknowledge that 
he is the God who upholds his cause in the earth, who 



3 J o The Cause of Jehovah against Baal, 



has power to reward his servants and punish his enemies: 
that he, and not Baal, is the God they must henceforth 
follow. The whole assembly of Israel are thus swayed 
back from Baal to Jehovah, and with loud voice declare 
that they will follow him as their God. But they have 
taken their vow ; and now a trying duty meets them, at 
once to test their adhesion and loyalty. For, according 
to the national law that Jehovah had given them through 
Moses, * " the prophet or prophets that shall speak to Israel 
in the name of other gods, to turn them away from Jehovah 
their God, must be put to death." To the execution of 
this trying duty, the prophet now calls them. (v. 40.) 
" And Elijah said unto them, take the prophets of Baal : 
let not one of them escape. And they took them : and 
Elijah brought them down to the brook Kishon, and slew 
them there." Thus they, who had led off Ahab and Israel 
into open idolatry and sin, and had provoked the ven- 
geance of Jehovah against his people, to smite them with 
drought and famine, were effectually put to silence. They 
should never more lift up their voice to cause Israel to 
offend, neither should their blood, soon to be washed 
away, with their rolling bodies, by the swelling torrents 
of Kishon into the sea, be allowed to pollute the land of 
Jehovah. 

And now is the hour of mercy and relief to suffering 
Israel, who have vowed unto the Lord and begun obedi- 
ence to his law. The prophet, who had once retired from 
the land announcing the judgment of drought, and had 
now come with the promise of mercy ; and who, having 
this power with God in his hands, had authority with the 
king and all Israel to assemble them to this trial : having 
succeeded to gain over the heart of Israel, and silence 
the prophets of Baal, now announces good tidings. He 
bids the king refresh himself unsparingly : for there is a 
sound of abundance of rain, that is to remove the stints 
of famine. He gets him to the top of Carmel, and bends 
in silent prayer. He sets his servant to watch the west- 
ern sea. Again and again the servant passes from his 

* Deut. xiii ; I, 2, 5 : xviii : 20. 



Tried before Israel on Carmel. 3 1 1 



post of observation to the prophet with no tidings. At 
the seventh time, he announces a cloud arising from the 
sea, to appearance of the size of a man's hand. He sends 
the servant forthwith to bid Ahab prepare his chariot 
and descend from the mountain with the people, before 
overtaken and stopped by the swelling mountain torrents. 
The cloud expands in every direction ; it grows dark 
with its stores of winds and waters : and when Ahab and 
the people and the hurrying prophet have found shelter 
in the city of Jezreel, it pours its reviving floods over the 
parched earth, and causes joy to the thousands of fam- 
ished Israel. 

Such is the history, as briefly as I could present it with 
justice, of a memorable day in Israel, on which Jehovah 
allowed Elijah his prophet, whom he had sent to them 
with a promise of relief, to institute, as preparatory to 
that mercy, a public trial of his cause, now come into con- 
flict with Baal, against that of the idol : in order that, to 
all the demonstrations of his power and goodness in the 
past, which had now become fruitless in the presence of 
these servants of Baal, he might add new evidences, 
to regain the hearts of Israel, and to silence their troublers ; 
and thus be acknowledged in his judgments and mercies, 
as the God in whom Israel should trust, and whom alone 
they should serve. 

Among the lessons to be derived from the proceedings 
of that memorable day, I will mention the following: 

1. Jehovah, the God of Israel, proved himself, on that 
day, to be the only God that is worthy to command the 
homage and service of our race. He is the one, who 
spake to the patriarchs; who gave laws and command- 
ments to Israel through Moses ; who brought into that 
nation his only Son, and through him caused the word of 
repentance and forgiveness to be published to the nations, 
preparatory to a day appointed, in which he will judge 
the world in righteousness ; who, in that long series of 
his dealings with Abraham and his seed, from the call of 
Abraham to the close of the mission of Christ and his apos- 
tles, caused this word to be prepared and published, as his 



312 The Cause of Jehovah against Baa/, 



book of instruction, to guide all the nations to the knowl- 
edge and acknowledgment of his glory and his claims. 
He, on that day when his claims came into contest with 
Baal, the god of surrounding nations, came forth from the 
hidings of his power, at the call of his faithful servant : 
and, from the secret store of his treasures, poured forth 
from heaven the fires that swept from earth the victim, 
the wood, and the very altar itself of the sacrifice that 
called in question his power. On that day, when the 
question was tried, whether he or Baal, whether he or 
any opposing deity, was to have the preference, he 
showed himself the living and true God ; who has control 
over the powers of nature and the course of events in the 
creation, who had withheld the rain as a judgment, and 
granted it again as a mercy, upon Israel. He, the ever- 
living God, remaineth the same in all generations ; hold- 
ing in his hands the resources of everlasting strength : to 
maintain the worship and service he inculcates in this 
book, and to fulfill all its promises and threatenings. 
Jehovah, made manifest by signs in Israel, made manifest 
in the flesh in Jesus Christ — Jehovah, the author of the 
Bible, then claims our faith and obedience, to the exclu- 
sion of all others. On the heights of Carmel, he showed 
himself strong to defend his cause, and to put to silence 
all his adversaries. Let us hear the lesson, which for all 
ages he inculcated that day ; that none can contend with 
Jehovah and prevail : that none can forsake his worship 
and service, without rushing on his judgment : and that 
none should experience his mercies, without turning back 
to him in their hearts. Let us then, in imitation of Israel 
that day, turn to Jehovah, before all the accumulated 
testimonies of his power and faithfulness, with reverence, 
exclaiming from the heart: 'Jehovah, he is the God in 
whom we will trust, he is the God whom we will obey : 
so shall we triumph in his strength, and be refreshed with 
his mercies.' 

2. Another lesson inculcated in the trial on Carmel, is 
that of the essential difference between the worshipers 
engaged in a false, and in the true religion. We see this 



Tried before Israel on Carrnel. 3 1 3 



difference strikingly exemplified in the prophets of Baal 
and the prophet of Jehovah, as they were tested in this 
trial in regard to their worship. A false religion has not 
the support of truth ; its votaries are astray from the only 
true God ; they act as before the people, rather than as 
before a deity ; they seek their own honor and emolument, 
at the expense of sin in the people ; and, when put to the 
test as to their religion, they rest not in the truth of their 
cause, but on working their own passions into frantic 
madness to affect the people, on loud vociferations, un- 
meaning repetitions, or extravagant actions, to absorb at- 
tention ; or in cruel woundings and penances of the flesh, 
to excite compassion : and all, as a vain substitute and 
show of religion, while astray from the only true God, 
and while given to the sins and lusts that fill the world 
with unrighteousness and woes. Such were the prophets 
of Baal in their worship ; such are all the idolaters, who 
have ever established a religion and service of idolatry 
in the earth ; and such too are they who, creeping with 
their idolatries into the service of Jehovah, have dared 
to set up idols in his sanctuary. They have all imitated 
these practices of Baal's prophets on Carmel ; substitu- 
ting for knowledge, truth, and the pure desires of piety 
and benevolence, their public shows before the people, 
their ridiculous ceremonies, their extravagances and pen- 
ances, their indulgences of the people in sins for gain and 
emolument. How different Elijah, the prophet of the 
living God ! He is calm and dignified, reposing on the 
truth and justice of his cause. He calls on God in a 
rational manner, as a being who has power to hear, and 
who has made promises in the past, to uphold the faith of 
his people. With a pure and firm purpose, to consult the 
honor of Jehovah, and the advancement of his cause, both 
in himself and in Israel, he makes that his plea, with 
earnestness and simplicity, and without repetition. He 
is calm in his feelings ; putting his unshaken trust in Jeho- 
vah, to whom he breathes the sincere desire of his heart 
that he will hear his prayer and fulfill his request. This 
is accordant with a heart of firm faith and pure obedience, 

4i 



314 The Cause of Jehovah against Baal, 



that brings honor upon God in presence of the multitudes, 
and gains from him audience and favor at the altar of 
devotion. 

Let then this striking example be a test to us, whether 
we are in error or in the truth, in respect to practical 
religion. Let us ask ourselves, whether in religion we 
set up ourselves and our interests before the people as 
supreme, or whether we merge our persons, our interests 
and our all, in the honor of God and the advancement of 
his cause. 

3. Another lesson taught us at the trial on Carmel, is 
the power which may be employed by an individual child 
of God to advance his cause in the earth. Elijah stood 
that day on Carmel as a solitary servant of God. Against 
him were arrayed the four hundred and fifty prophets of 
Baal ; the king of Israel, their protector and friend ; and the 
whole multitudes of Israel, committed to these idolaters by 
their compliances. What had he to rest upon, that he 
should attempt to uphold and advance the cause of his God 
against this overwhelming torrent of idolatry ? First, he 
had faith in God, as a Being of infinite and unchanging 
power, who had begun a plan of grace in our world which, 
by promises irrevocably spoken, he had pledged himself 
to carry forward in every age. And before that God, in 
whose breast were locked up the secrets of the future, 
and with whom were the issues of all power in the crea- 
tion, he felt that he might come nigh to plead and pre- 
vail. Though the past was now unalterable ; though the 
present was dark and discouraging; yet on the future, 
that lay concealed with God, he looked with faith and 
hope, as open at his almighty bidding to immediate issues 
of good. Next, he was furnished with a powerful plea 
that he could present to Jehovah. He was an obedient 
friend to his cause. He desired to have Jehovah honored 
in him and through him as a servant, and honored before 
Israel, and by Israel as his people. He bore in his heart 
this pure desire to merge himself and his surrounding 
fellow-creatures in the cause and honor of Jehovah, 
which cause and honor carry with them the blessedness 



Tried before Israel on Carmel. 3 1 5 



of God, and the highest good of his vast kingdom to 
eternity. He was thus furnished with a plea that does 
not fail to touch the heart of God. He stood up as a true 
and devoted servant of his, breathing before others, in the 
great congregation, the pure desire that he would honor 
himself while his cause was in so feeble hands, and while 
his honor was concerned with so many around ; and the 
plea avails. So the faithful servant of God, who labors 
for his cause, whether in public or in private, when he 
brings this pure plea before God, tries him and proves 
him on a point nearest his heart, and will not fail to have 
audience. Once more, the prophet that day asked for an 
interposition of direct almighty power in the fall of fire 
from heaven, that was competent as a means to give honor 
to his cause, to turn back the hearts of his people, and 
silence his foes. Still God has in his hands the treasury 
of almighty power : and if he does not now allow his friends 
to ask for direct miracles to be wrought, to sustain a 
cause sufficiently based on that evidence already, yet 
he is open still to be tried, in all the applications of 
his almighty power in his works of providence and grace. 
Still he may send, at the earnest request and upon the 
pure plea of any faithful servant, that providential dispen- 
sation, and that working of his word and Holy Spirit, 
which will advance his cause in the earth ; which will 
turn the hearts of men to acknowledge and serve the 
Lord, and which will put to silence his enemies. Yes ; 
this wonder-working power in the spiritual world, like 
the rod in the hand of Moses, is in the hand of that be- 
lieving and devoted child of God, who breathes, at his 
throne of grace and into his ear, the pure and fervent 
desire, that he would uphold and extend his cause and 
honor his name in the earth. 

Let no one then feel himself weak who can in true faith 
call upon God for help. The humble believer, without 
office in the Church, unknown to fame, who in his little 
sphere of action seeks to honor God in faith and obedience, 
can in prayer touch the heart of God, in behalf not only 
of the immediate circle in which he lives and moves, or 



3 16 The Cause of Jehovah against Baal, 



the Church with which he is connected, but of friends, and 
laborers for God and souls, in any part of this wide exten- 
ded globe. My brethren, do you know this privilege? 
I fear we sometimes crush our spirits, by feeling that we 
have some great thing to do ourselves in order to advance 
the cause of our God, and must do it alone. Look then 
to the privilege granted you in prayer. Go, cast your 
burden on the Lord, and ask him to bring in the aids of 
his Spirit and might, to accomplish your desires for the 
advancement of his glory and kingdom. Go to the heart 
of infinite love. There touch the springs of all good suc- 
cess on earth. The earnest prayer of a righteous man 
availeth much. Elijah was a man " subject to like passions 
as we are;" yet, at his prayer, the rain long withheld in 
judgment from Israel, descended again to bless the earth. 

Finally: The trial on Carmel teaches us that God will 
put to silence all the adversaries of his cause and people. 
With him is all power ; and, by the tokens of his might, 
he can confound and put to shame all his adversaries. 
He can send down the fire of his Spirit, to re-consecrate 
his forsaken altars, and to regain the hearts of his 
revolted people to follow him and walk in his precepts, 
and, by the revival of his own honor and cause, overawe 
and put to silence all opposers. He can, in his wrath, 
commission the sword to destroy. And by mercy, or by 
wrath, he will silence all his adversaries ; and that 
speedily. The wicked man may flourish awhile. He 
may set up his cause and find his patrons, in the earth. 
He may flatter himself with his devices, and content his 
heart in his iniquities. But his day of trial is coming. 
And where then will be the might in which he trusts? 
Who of all his idols or friends will hear or save ; when 
Jehovah, that is mightier than all, shall come forth to 
execute judgment? He shall be taken away in his iniqui- 
ties. The sword of the Lord shall devour him in anger. 
And the places that knew him shall know him no more 
forever. 

My friends, hearken to the warning that comes from 
the heights of Carmel against espousing any cause op- 






Tried before Israel on Carmel. 3 1 7 



posed to that of Jehovah. The Bible represents on the 
earth the cause of Jehovah : the book that utters his 
voice ; that speaks his will ; that breathes forth the prom- 
ises of his mercy and the threatenings of his justice, — 
behind which, to guard and fulfill, lie concealed awhile 
the resources of that everlasting strength, which upholds 
and guides all the movements of this vast creation. If, in 
your heart and life, you discard the authority of this 
book ; if, in your intercourse with others, you attempt to 
put down in their minds its authority ; you engage in a 
controversy with the living Jehovah, and must meet the 
fate of those who contended against his authority in the 
days when he was giving out these oracles with the testi- 
monies of his miraculous power. Act not such a foolish 
part on this short stage of life, to fall forever under con- 
demnation. Imitate rather the good and holy Elijah. 
Take Jehovah for the God whom you will only and for- 
ever follow. Seek and obey the instructions of his word. 
Maintain the honor of his name and worship. And, with 
faith and love in your hearts, and in humble, earnest prayer, 
ask him to promote his cause in your hands, and to shower 
on the parched world around, the blessings of his grace. 
So will you live and die the happy servants of God, the 
honored benefactors of mankind. 



THE ASCENSION OF JESUS. 



MARK XVI: 19— LUKE XXIV: 50-53— ACTS I: 4—14. 

The sorrows of the Crucifixion were past. An interval 
of forty days had now elapsed since the joys of the Resur- 
rection. During this interval, Jesus did not lead about 
the band of his disciples, as their constant companion, as 
he was wont during the days of his public ministry. He 
appeared to them on certain occasions only ; and, in some 
instances, hy express appointment of time and place. 
His personal appearances took place so often, before so 
many concurring witnesses, in such varied circumstances, 
and with such recollections of the past in his conversa- 
tions, as to afford many infallible proofs, that this was 
indeed Jesus, alive again after his passion by resurrection 
from the dead. 

This interval of forty days had brought them now near 
the Pentecost — the fiftieth day from the second of the 
Passover, called the Feast of Weeks; — a feast day, on 
which they were to receive far richer gifts than the first- 
fruits of the wheat harvest, w T hich were then wont to be 
gathered — on which they were to receive their first heav- 
enly gifts after the coronation of Jesus, in the descent of 
the Spirit upon them at their inauguration into office, 
the first fruits of the great spiritual harvests that Jesus 
was to reap on earth from his sufferings. 

At this time of full proof of his resurrection and of 
near approach to the festival, he convened them together 
by appointment, and met them in their assembly. " Being 
assembled together with them," is the introductory ac- 
count in the Acts, as given in our translation. This 
meeting took place within the walls of Jerusalem ; but it 



320 The Ascension of J e sits. 



would seem that, instead of being continued at the place 
of their gathering, he soon led them to the height of 
Olivet, and held his conversation with them by the way. 
For Luke, in his Gospel, says, that " he led them out as 
far as to Bethany," — out of the city to the borders of 
Bethany, on the Mount of Olives, — implying that, having 
assembled in the city, they took this walk, before the Ascen- 
sion : and, in his history of the Acts, he says, that, " when 
he," Jesus Christ, " had spoken these things, he was taken 
up;" and consequently he must have reached the place 
where he ascended, at the time of closing the conversation 
For Luke adds, that, " then," — immediately after the 
event, — they, the disciples, returned to Jerusalem, from 
the Mount of Olivet. 

Jesus had met them by appointment a short time before 
this interview, on a mountain in Galilee, not unlikely the 
elevated Tabor, as he was seen by a few of them a short 
time before, near the sea of Tiberias: and there, where his 
glory had been prefigured, he then proclaimed his 
approaching elevation to all power in heaven and on 
earth, and commissioned them to preach the Gospel to 
all nations. 

But now is he immediately to take possession of his 
power. And at Jerusalem he meets them once more, 
that he may have his final interview with them on earth, 
and give them instructions as to their approaching inaug- 
uration into public office. He walks with them through 
the familiar scenes of his past ministry. He goes with 
them down the vale of Jehoshaphat, he crosses the brook 
Kedron, he passes the garden of Gethsemane, he ascends 
the height of Olivet to make them witnesses of his glori- 
ous Ascent to the Throne. 

In this conversation by the way, he reminded them, first 
of all, of what he had said to them, on that sad night of 
the Passover, about his Father : that the Father had pro- 
mised to send down to them the Holy Spirit, when he 
had left ; that it was expedient for them that he should 
go away ; that, by going away, he should see that the 
Spirit was sent down ; and that the arrival and presence 
of this Comforter would more than make amends for the 



The Ascension of Jesus. 321 



want of his bodily presence. He reminded them, too, of 
the prophecy of John the Baptist, when he announced of 
the coming- Messiah, " I baptize you with water, but he 
shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost." By recalling to 
their minds these heavenly promises, first proclaimed by 
John at the ford of Jordan, and more fully unfolded by 
himself, in his discourse on the night of his and their 
sufferings, he gave them now clearly to understand, that 
they were soon to receive the promised gift of the Holy 
Spirit : and the direction which he gave them was, that 
they should hold themselves in readiness for the gift, and, 
for that purpose, should remain together, waiting for the 
blessing in the posture of faith and prayer, at Jerusalem. 
He " commanded them that they should not depart from 
Jerusalem, but wait for the promise of the Father, which, 
saith he, ye have heard of me. For John truly baptized 
with water" — with this outward washing he initiated his 
disciples into the expectation of the kingdom, and inaug- 
urated me into the office of proclaiming the kingdom — 
" but ye shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost not many 
days hence." Ye shall be inaugurated into your office of 
witnessing for me, as I was to my ministry, by the descent 
of the Holy Spirit. 

By thus announcing the promise of the Father and the 
prophecy of John as soon to be accomplished, and direct- 
ing them to wait at Jerusalem for the accomplishment, 
their curiosity, it seems, was excited on the old subject 
of the temporal kingdom of Israel. For Luke imme- 
diately adds, " When therefore they were come together;" 
— i.e., when, excited by curiosity, they had gathered, as a 
body, more closely together around his person — a gather- 
ing of the body at the time more closely, for they were 
already on their last walk with Jesus, and could not 
assemble around him afterwards — when thus excited, 
they asked of him, saying, " Lord, wilt thou at this time 
restore again the kingdom unto Israel? " 

The idea of the re-establishment of the kingdom among 
the sons of Israel, in greater splendor than in the days of 
Solomon, by the person of the coming Messiah, was the 

42 



322 The Ascension of Jesus. 



prevalent opinion cherished among the Jews at that age. 
This opinion, shared in likewise by the twelve, concern- 
ing Jesus during the days of his ministry, had been dis- 
turbed and shaken, in a great measure, from the time of 
his public condemnation and crucifixion. On the day of 
his resurrection, if we may gather the general sentiment 
of the disciples from the speech of Cleopas, they Avere 
astonished, but could scarcely recover from the blow 
given to their hopes in regard to the temporal deliver- 
ance and glory of Israel. " Our rulers " have " delivered 
him to be condemned to death, and have crucified him." 
" We trusted it had been he who should have redeemed 
Israel." ' But now he is come to life again, and we are 
astonished ; yet how can he, whom both Jews and Romans 
have condemned, gain the power and opportunity, that he 
once had, on his way of miracles, to take and wield the 
kingdom ?' But on this occasion the promises of Christ 
about the future, and his directions that they wait at 
Jerusalem a short time for the coming of the Comforter, 
revive at once their hopes, that he will yet establish his 
power over the people ; and their curiosity is excited to 
know, whether he will take this opportunity to restore to 
Israel the temporal rule and authority, long passed over 
to Assyrians, Babylonians and Romans. " Wilt thou at 
this time restore again the kingdom to Israel?" 

Jesus, in his reply, turned off their thoughts from the 
time of the kingdom, as a matter they would better under- 
stand from events in the future, than they now could 
from any mere declarations ; and bade them, in effect, 
leave that question for the Father to settle by his provi- 
dential authority and control, and attend rather to the 
duties which were more immediately to occupy their 
labors, and for which they were to be strengthened by 
the promised gift of the Spirit. " It is not for you to 
know the times and seasons, which the Father hath 
reserved in his own power," — placed, fixed by his own 
authority. But what will enlighten you far more into 
the nature of the kingdom, and your duties in it, " Ye 
shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come 



The Ascension of Jesus. 323 



upon you, and you shall be witnesses unto me, both in 
Jerusalem, and in all Judea, and in Samaria, and unto the 
uttermost parts of the earth." 

This, if we except his parting benediction, was his last 
speech with them on earth — a speech, in which he led 
forward their views to the work which he would have 
them execute on the earth as his witnesses: that the)', 
who had seen his past acts of mercy and power, should 
proclaim him as the Messiah and Saviour at Jerusalem, 
the seat of his most violent persecutors and murderers ; 
in all Judea, in Samaria — at that day hated of the Jews — 
and to the utmost bound of the world. 

The Saviour, with the band, had now reached the 
height of Olivet, east of Jerusalem. They stood together, 
it is supposed, on the central one of the three eminences 
which, ranging from north to south, crown that mount. 
Here, as they took their last look of his familiar and 
beloved countenance, he was standing before them, with 
uplifted hands, pronouncing upon them his benediction 
and farewell. " He lifted up his hands and blessed 
them." And as the words of blessing and well-wishing 
to their welfare are sounding from his lips, suddenly, 
his countenance being still fixed on theirs and theirs on 
his, he begins to rise from the earth ; he ascends into the 
sky ; a cloud of glory rolls under and around him, as a 
sustaining and ascending chariot ; he is borne upward 
beyond their sight ; he enters — as the glorious vision 
would indicate, and the message he soon sent down certi- 
fied — the heavenly world ; he there takes a seat, as head 
over the whole creation, at the right hand of God. " And 
it came to pass, while he blessed them, he was parted 
from them." " While they beheld, he was taken up, and 
a cloud received him out of their sight." " He was car- 
ried up into heaven." " He was received up into heaven, 
and sat on the right hand of God." 

The eleven were looking earnestly upon that ascending 
cloud, tracing the pathway of their glorious Lord towards 
the house of his Heavenly Father, and were transfixed, 
with adoring wonder, in the same position, after he had 



324 The Ascension of Jesus. 



gone beyond the reach of their vision ; when, suddenly, 
their attention is arrested by an appearance at their side. 
" While they looked steadfastly towards heaven, as he . 
went up, behold, two men stood by them in white 
apparel." These were messengers, sent from heaven with 
the very first tidings from their ascending Lord, to satisfy 
their minds more fully in regard to the exalted throne to 
which he was gone, and to leave the message on earth, 
that its inhabitants are to see him at a future day return- 
ing in like power and glory. Whether these messengers, 
whom the sacred historian calls " men," were in reality 
men, sent from the ranks of the redeemed in the heavenly 
world, as Moses and Elias had been on the mount of 
transfiguration ; or whether they were sent from the 
angelic orders, all of which are to accompany the Saviour, 
when he shall come again in the glory of his Father, is 
not certain from the language. For they are called men, 
in reference merely* it may be, to their personal appear- 
ance : and such an appearance we know to have been 
borne by angels, on their visible embassies to the earth in 
the earlier ages. So, on the day of his resurrection, two 
angels, clothed in white, appearing as young men, Avere 
seen by the women, as they came to the sepulcher, sitting 
within, at the place where the head and feet of the Lord 
lay, to announce his removal by resurrection. But as the 
disciples are thus suddenly turned towards these heav- 
enly visitants, they hear from them this message : " Ye 
men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven ? 
This same Jesus, which is taken from you into heaven, 
shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into 
heaven." This is an extraordinary and heavenly an- 
nouncement of the place whither the Lord is gone, and 
of the certainty and glory of his future return to the 
world, at the completion and close of his kingdom of grace 
on the earth. 

'Gaze up no longer, in astonishment and doubt as to 
the future, whether he shall come immediately back, or 
whether he is lost to you forever. Look forward in faith 
and hope to another coming of your Lord, in like glory, in 




The Ascension of Jesus. 325 



the clouds of heaven. He now takes the throne to rule, 
to guide, to save ; he will come in the glory of the throne, 
to gather his people to himself and to his Father in 
heaven, and to separate from among them all that offend 
and do iniquity.' 

Thus were the band parted from the sight of the Lord, 
on whose instructions they had so long attended ; whose 
miracles of divine power and compassion they had so 
often witnessed ; and whose kind and patient labors for 
their spiritual welfare had so deeply won their love. 
They cannot now ascend with their Lord, to see him in 
his heavenly glory, and rejoice before him there : they 
have a work left for them to do in his behalf on earth. So 
they leave the mount of his benediction and Ascension, 
and, broken off from longer earthly intercourse with him, 
bearing with them sweet memories of the voice they 
shall no more hear, the face they shall no more see in the 
flesh, they go to the place appointed them, to wait 
together for the promised presence and baptism of the 
Holy Ghost. " Then returned they unto Jerusalem from 
the mount called Olivet, which is from Jerusalem a sab- 
bath-day's journey." " And when they were come in," 
[to the city], " they went into an upper room, where 
abode both Peter and James and John, Andrew, Philip 
and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James the son 
of Alpheus, and Simon Zelotes, and Judas the brother of 
James." These eleven are particularly enumerated by 
Luke in his history of the Acts, to identify the witnesses 
of the Ascension with the constant attendants of the min- 
istry of Christ, to whom he had now given instructions in 
regard to their apostleship. " These all," it is added, 
" continued with one accord in prayer and supplication, 
with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with 
his brethren." Thus, when her son as to the flesh had 
ascended, Mary, the mother, now under the care of John, 
with her remaining children now believers in Jesus, is, 
with the band, to await the gifts of the coronation ; and 
the women from Galilee also, the other Mary that loved 
much, and Salome his aunt, the mother of James and 



326 The Ascension of Jesus. 



John, who attended him to minister to his wants and to 
those of the band, still continue their ministrations : and 
now, that their Head, to whom they were so deepty 
attached, is gone to the Father, they are all united in one 
sentiment of love and hope to draw nigh the throne of 
grace, and wait for the promised blessing. They now, 
in constant supplication, look with a livelier faith to the 
Heavenly Throne ; and to it they raise all the affection 
and confidence inspired by the past instructions, the pro- 
mises, the faithfulness of their now ascended Advocate 
and Lord. 

From this account of the Ascension of Jesus, we may 
gather the following topics of instruction. 

1. This historic account proves the reality of the exal- 
tation of Christ to the throne over the whole creation. 

I mean,, that it supplies a link in the chain of evidence, 
which is necessary to render that evidence complete, 
and, without which, it might be embarrassed with diffi- 
culties. For, although the voice of prophecy foretold 
the ascent of Christ to the throne, after his earthly 
mission, — " The chariots of God are thousands of an- 
gels : the Lord is among them. Thou hast ascended on 
high, thou hast led captivity captive, thou hast received 
gifts for men, yea, for the rebellious ; " — though Christ 
had repeatedly foretold that he should leave the world, 
and go to the Father ; and proclaimed on the mount of 
Galilee, " All power is given to me in heaven and on 
earth " ;— and though, on that mount, the Father, from the 
cloud of glory, had proclaimed him his well-beloved Son, 
and caused his glory to be prefigured : yet, to render this 
prophetic evidence complete, some facts, it is clear, must 
have taken place, after the resurrection of Christ from 
the dead, in regard to the disposal of his human nature, to 
accord with these representations, and show that they 
were founded upon historic truth and reality. With these 
facts, the historical record just examined directly sup- 
plies us : and as these facts are properly attested, the 
chain of evidence is complete. Or, if it is objected that 
the narrative is not recorded directly by the apostles 



The Ascension of Jesus. 327 



themselves, the eye witnesses, but by Mark and Luke 
only, yet these historians, most intimate friends of the 
apostles, must have received the information directly 
from them ; and their narrative, when published, must 
have been acquiesced in by those of them who were living : 
and the apostles themselves indirectly give us their own 
testimony, in what they state, in three epistles at least, of 
the exaltation of Jesus, and his design to re-appear on 
earth at the close of the Gospel dispensation. The evi- 
dence, therefore, is complete. 

There have been those who have seemed stumbled at 
these very facts ; who think this particular portion of the 
history not accordant with spiritual ideas. But whether 
there is any offense truly given to spiritual ideas in this 
account, and whether such an opinion should make us 
hesitate at all in regard to the testimony of eye witnesses, 
may appear on further consideration. What, then, is in 
reality more fully accordant, I would ask, with all the 
prophetic and Scriptural representations given of the 
mission of Christ on this earth, or with its nature, than 
that it should thus terminate by the ascension of his 
human nature, out of our world, to some exalted sphere 
of visible glory at the head of the heavenly world ? 

If God is a spirit, everywhere present, yet his creation 
is finite. And the human nature of Christ, after his resur- 
rection from the dead, must have a locality somewhere — 
a residence in some place in the universe. This is certain, 
from his having a finite soul resident in the body. And if 
he left this world in human nature for some other sphere 
in the universe, a departure from the world in any place 
must be by ascension. 

Now there are only three suppositions possible in the 
case ; one, that, after his resurrection, he should still 
remain in body and soul on the earth perpetually ; 
another, that his soul should be again separated from the 
body, never again to cleave to any ; and a third, that his 
soul, still in union with the body, should leave this world 
for some other sphere in the creation — one of highest 
exaltation, as represented in revelation. 



328 The Ascension of Jesus. 



But it will not be pretended that he has remained in 
bodily presence on the earth perpetually. How, too, 
could it be consistent with the representations of the 
supreme glory to be given to Christ, as the reward of his 
humiliations, that he should still remain forever on this 
earth after his resurrection ? Is this a place — here, where 
opposition and enmity and reviling ever met him, — this 
scene of humiliation, a place of residence consistent with 
the representations of the honor and glory to be given 
him by the Father? But, again, if he disappeared by the 
separation of his soul from his body, what would that be 
but to have undergone temporal death again ? For, if our 
Lord showed himself alive after his passion, and allowed 
the disciples to handle him, and see that he was not a 
spirit, but had flesh and bones, it is clear that he united 
soul and body, and could not have disappeared by separa- 
tion of the soul from the body, without the death of the 
body. He must then have laid down his body to see 
corruption ; and how would that harmonize with the 
Scriptural representations, or with the nature and design 
of his mission to lay down his life once only for the sins of 
men. What then remains, in the nature of the case, as 
any probable disposition of the human nature of Jesus 
after the resurrection, than that very one which this his- 
torical account supplies : that Jesus, — alive from the dead, 
both body and soul, leaving our world, without dropping 
that body in death, but with a miraculous change merely 
passing upon it to transform it into a spiritual body — 
ascended in glory, in presence of his disciples, to heaven, 
to a visible headship there over the angelic world and the 
redeemed — to the throne of universal dominion, the 
throne of the Father? Nothing more need be supposed 
in this case, than what is perfectly consistent with the 
narration; that, as in the case of Elijah and of those who 
shall be alive at his second coming, his body, as he 
ascended, was changed into a spiritual body. 

Consider now, with these probabilities of the case, the 
evidence which the narration supplies. The eleven dis- 
ciples are all before him on Olivet. They hear him talk 



The Ascension of Jesus. 329 



of what he will send down to them, from the throne, in a 
few days. He blesses them, with uplifted hands. He 
begins to rise from the earth. A cloud of glory, which 
had ever in this world represented the presence of the 
Deity, seems as it were re-enacting the scene on Tabor, 
and proclaiming to the witnessing disciples, in symbol, 
that the Father, well pleased, was welcoming him as a 
Son, to his own glory — as, indeed, it is represented that he 
shall hereafter come again, seated on a cloud, in the glory 
of the Father. Still more to confirm them as to the ele- 
vated station to which he ascends, two heavenlv messen- 
gers come, and audibly announce that their Lord has 
ascended to heaven, and that there he shall remain till he 
shall descend to the world again in like glorv. 

Jesus, then, by ascending from the earth after his resur- 
rection, it is obvious, took the universal throne — the throne 
of God— a visible headship over all the principalities and 
powers of the heavenly world, and shines forth before all, 
in the brightness of the Father's glory, in the express 
image of his person. So that, as he left this world of his 
humiliating mission, he was there, for his faithful obedi- 
ence and sufferings in the cause of God among men, 
crowned with honor and glory. And angels — who cele- 
brated his coming on earth with their heavenly songs, 
who aided him in his fearful agonies with their s}~mpa- 
thies, who contemplated with wonder the place where he 
lav entombed, who remained after his ascent, to assure 
the disciples whither he had gone, and of the interest 
felt in him and his cause in the heavenly world ; — angels, 
on that da}' doubtless, went up with him in the cloud of 
glory and seated him on the throne over all, and willingly 
and joyously obeyed the decree of the Eternal Father, 
when bringing his Son as heir into possession of the gov- 
ernment of this lower world : " Let all the angels of God 
worship him." 

2. In this account of the Ascension of Jesus we are 
taught, that he desired still to promote the welfare of his 
disciples on earth, when ascended to his throne of glory. 

43 



330 1 lie Ascension of Jesus. 



How could it be, after all he had done for the cause of 
God among them, and for their spiritual welfare, that he 
should for one moment forget their welfare, when he 
went to his own joyous rewards ? His heart was proved 
too compassionate and true, amid the toils and sufferings 
and death of his ministry, ever to be absorbed in his per- 
sonal glory, so far as not to be affectionate and true 
towards them still. Therefore, when about to be exalted 
out of their humble state, and to go to his Father's 
throne, he engages to send down to them a powerful 
Comforter, the Spirit, to supply the place of his bodily 
presence; he bids them wait on him, with confidence 
that through the Spirit they shall be strengthened for the 
duties and trials of their office : and, as he leaves the earth, 
his last look is upon them ; his hands are lifted up in bless- 
ing ; his heart is directed to them in assurances of good 
will, in wishing them to fare well in their earthly course. 

But without now tracing the history of his providence 
over them after his departure, in which we might perceive 
the fulfilment of his promises and blessings, can we not see, 
in this very conduct of his at the time of his departure 
for the throne, that he expected, (and wished them also 
to expect,) that he would still effectually provide for their 
strength in duty and trial, and cause the blessing he 
* pronounced to abide effectually with them, as an unfailing 
spring of grace and joy to their souls. 

He appointed them, indeed, a great work, hazardous 
and difficult; of reproving a guilty world for sin against 
God, and calling them to repentance, and of preaching 
and proclaiming him to the human race as a Saviour ; 
and to begin their mission at Jerusalem — the place where 
resided his most powerful and most implacable enemies, 
who had effected his crucifixion ; and who would be 
ready to assail, with murderous hatred, any attempt to 
revive his cause again among the people. Yet it was a 
great object, to save souls and redeem them to the king- 
dom of his Father, for which he had cheerfully laid down 
his own life, and in which they might well hazard theirs. 
But he would not send them in their weakness ; forth 



The Ascension of Jesus. 



03 



unfurnished, unprepared. He would have them wait on 
him for the Spirit, to impart wisdom and strength and 
mighty works, to convince and reprove the world, and 
give success to their testimony. He would see them, as 
they waited at Jerusalem for the baptism of the Spirit, 
abundantly supplied with power and might from above. 
They should reap the first fruits of the spiritual harvests, 
that were to be gathered from his sufferings — the early 
and latter harvests of the world. And wherever they 
went, the blessing he left was to abide upon them, to 
cheer and sustain their hearts. Thus did he teach us, in 
his care for the disciples whom he left for a while still in 
the world, that his followers in all their duties and trials 
should wait on him for strength and blessing : that, on 
the throne over all, he is still as regardful of their wants, 
as though he were toiling with them amid the cares of 
this life, and that if, in compliance with his directions, 
they wait on him, he will grant them, if not the zvonder- 
working pozvers of the Holy Spirit, yet that enlightening, 
sanctifying, comforting influence from his presence, that 
will be sufficient to uphold and strengthen them amid all 
their earthly duties and trials. 

3. The Ascension of Christ to the Heavenly Throne, 
has taught his followers to rise in their affections and 
hopes, from worldly to heavenly things. 

When he was on earth, and laboring in the midst of 
the band of his disciples, they were continually looking 
forward to some great change in their zvorldly condition ; 
expecting to see their master on the throne of the earthly 
Israel, and to be sharers with him in his temporal 
power and glory. These expectations seemed irrecovera- 
bly lost on the day of his public condemnation and cruci- 
fixion, and were scarcely revived again on the day of his 
resurrection. ' For how shall Jesus now rise to power 
over Israel, hated and condemned as he has been at their 
hands?' But from the time they saw him on Olivet, as- 
cending in glory from their sight, to occupy the heavenly 
throne, promising his blessings from thence ; and heard 
the angel witnesses proclaim, 'he who has ascended now 



332 The Ascension of Jesus. 



to heaven will come again at another day in like glory ;' 
they cease longer to gaze upward for his re-appearance 
to bodily vision ; they cease longer to look up for his imme- 
diate return : as if he were lost to them forever, they 
worship him together as their ascended Lord, they return 
to Jerusalem with joy and thankfulness, waiting, in sup- 
plication, on the Heavenly Throne, as now the object of 
all their faith — the source of all their expectations and 
joys. 

The ascent of their Lord seems to have led their 
thoughts and hearts at once to a throne higher than any 
earthly, and to joys more pure and lasting than those of 
this world. Jesus, the friend and instructor whom they 
had followed, they now see has gone up before them to 
heaven, carrying with him all the affection and love he 
had manifested to them in life and in death. Their views 
and feelings are now raised beyond the objects of sight, 
which are temporary, and exalted in faith to the invisible 
throne of all might and dominion in heaven. There now 
is Jesus, a forerunner for them in their own nature : and 
they know that he will there provide them their eternal 
mansions. There is Jesus, their high priest and advocate, 
crowned with all power: and now they may confidently 
ask anything in his name ; for if they do, he will do it for 
them, " that the Father may be glorified thereby." There 
is Jesus, their Friend, and with him, their affections and 
hopes have ascended to the throne ; and all their duties and 
trials in this life they cast on his providence and grace ; 
their eternal joy they expect to derive from him, when he 
shall come again, in the glory of that throne, to take up 
with himself all his redeemed to an eternal abode with 
him and his Father. 

Whether the little band at Jerusalem, immediately 
after his Ascension were led at once, and before the Pente- 
cost, to all these views of hope and expectation from the 
throne of heaven, we may not indeed be certain. Yet 
they soon were ; as is obvious from the fuller description 
the apostles have left, of the speedy spiritualizing and 
exaltation of their hopes. And it is certain that the 



The Ascension of Jesus. 333 



means which the Spirit of God made effectual to this end, 
was the exaltation of Christ above this world to the 
throne of heaven. And on this means the apostles relied, 
to elevate the affections and hopes of their converts. 
" Set your affections on things above, where Christ is at 
the right hand of God." " Our conversation is in heaven, 
from whence also we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus 
Christ, who shall change our vile body, that it may be 
fashioned like unto his glorious body." 

My Christian friends, let us then, — as we see Christ, 
having taught and suffered as our Saviour on earth, 
ascending, after his resurrection, from this earth to the 
heavenly throne, — feel that that throne is now accessible 
to us, in all our wants, and notwithstanding our guilt and 
unworthiness : because Jesus is there, our Great High 
Priest, before the Father, having entered the holy sanctu- 
ary with the blood of sprinkling and with intercession, to 
save to the uttermost those who come to God in his 
name : because Jesus is there, admitted to the Heavenly 
Throne itself, as the immediate Head and Lord of All. 
Let us treasure up all our affections and hopes with him, 
the Forerunner of his people and their highest Friend, 
who has gone to prepare them a place in his own love and 
the love of the Father to eternity. And let us, while we 
remain in this world, so cleave to him in faith, so breathe 
from his Spirit the spirit of love, so walk in his precepts, 
and so labor in his cause, that, on that final day of his 
coming to receive his people to himself, we may meet 
him with joy and not with grief — that we may behold his 
eyes beaming on us with love, his hands raised over us in 
blessing; and hear from his lips the sentence of eternal 
joy and welcome, " Come, ye blessed of my Father, in- 
herit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation 
of the world." O ! what a glorious reward for the 
patience and labors of the saints on earth — patience in 
hope, and labor in love — thus to be exalted with the 
exalted Saviour to the kingdom of the Father, and to 
rejoice in their presence and love forevermore ! 



THE WISDOM OF GOD IN THE APPOINTMENT 
OF TEMPORAL DEATH. 



HEBREWS IX : 27. 

It is appointed unto men once to die. 

Our present life is soon to terminate in the night of 
death and the grave. We began our existence amid the 
graves of those who have preceded us ; and soon, leaving 
our stations to those who come after us, must we lie 
down, with all our predecessors, in the vast cemetery of 
the dead. This world — our birth place— the scene of our 
privileges, toils and trials — is also our appointed sepul- 
cher : and, populous as it ever is with life, it is still more 
so with death, into whose silent chambers all the genera- 
tions of man successively pass. 

This common lot of humanity proceeds from the 
appointment of the Creator. Such is the conclusion of 
reason. For, if there is a Creator of our life, he, surely, 
must be its supreme disposer. If God has given us exist- 
ence, he, evidently, has ordained the nature of that exist- 
ence, the laws of its support and duration, and the causes 
of its earthly termination. Such, also, is the assertion of 
revelation. No assertion can be clearer than that in the 
text. For, though impersonal in its form, it leaves no 
doubt on any mind as to the person to be understood, 
from whom the appointment proceeds. " It is appointed 
unto men once to die." 

The necessity of death, which is common to the race, 
we are to regard, therefore, as founded in the voluntary 
appointment of the Creator. Yet the appointment is not 
arbitrary. It is founded, doubtless, in reasons of wisdom 
and goodness. 



336 The Wisdom of God in the 



There can be no doubt that the occasion for the 
appointment arose out of the sin of our first progenitor 
and his race : so far, at least, as to the adoption of this 
particular manner of removing man from this world ; and 
that, if Adam and his race had continued holy, the 
removal would have been made in a different manner. 
But as the appointment was one to be adhered to univer- 
sally, — even in case of the followers of Christ, who are 
forgiven and released from all condemnation and punish- 
ment, — it is obvious, that such appointment of temporal 
death is not identical with condemnation and punishment, 
any more than is the other appointment, — which is said, 
in the context, to follow death — that of a day of universal 
judgment. 

There must, therefore, be other reasons, which lie at 
the ground of appointing such a particular evil as tem- 
poral death to our race, and not the simple one that 
justice, in punishing sin, requires it: more general reasons 
of wisdom and goodness ; and these are the reasons into 
which we will now inquire. 

Nor can such an inquiry on our part be presumptuous, 
if conducted with a proper spirit and in a proper manner: 
with a desire to increase in the knowledge of God, and to 
see more of the wisdom and goodness of his ways ; and 
with a careful reliance on the teachings of his word and 
providence, for our instruction. 

I observe, then, that the wisdom of God in appointing 
temporal death to our race will appear obvious to us, if 
the three propositions, which I am now to state, are ascer- 
tained, on inquiry, to be founded in truth. 

I. That the plan of providence, begun with man and 
his race, forbids his immortal existence here upon the 
earth. 

II. That his removal from the earth, if necessary, must 
be effected in the mode, either of a supernatural change, 
or of temporal death. And, 

III. That, of these two ways of removal, death, con- 
sidered in its bearings on the present and future state of 
man as a sinning race, has several advantages which 
would be lost, upon the plan of a supernatural change. 



Appointment of Temporal DeatJi. 337 



These propositions, if sustained, go no further, it will 
be seen, than to show the wisdom of this general plan of 
procedure with our race, — of removing all its generations 
from the world in this one way of temporal death. They 
enter not into reasons for the variation of time and man- 
ner in the removal of individuals by death, nor deny that 
there may be subordinate and special reasons which regu- 
late these also in wisdom. But of the wisdom of the 
general appointment of temporal death to our race, we 
are now to judge ; and let us enquire, 

I. Whether the plan of providence, begun with man 
and his race, admits of his immortality here on the earth ? 

That plan may be considered in its relation both to the 
animal and the spiritual nature of man : yet in neither 
respect does it proceed on the ground of an immortality 
to his life here on the earth. 

The animal nature of man was not fitted to continue 
forever. 

For his body is composed of materials, which in their 
nature are corruptible ; its organization, in relation to the 
forces which exist on the earth, is frail and destructible : 
with its powers of digestion and circulation, it is depend- 
ent on the productions of the world for its nutriment, and 
is designed, not only for his individual existence, but for 
the increase of his species. It is no part of our inquiry now, 
why he was originally constituted in this manner, for we 
are speaking only of the dealings of God with a creature 
thus made. But certainly, this constitution of things was 
in irreconcilable variance with allowing him and his 
increasing species an immortality upon the earth. For 
how were all the individuals of his constantly increasing 
race to escape forever those adequate causes of destruc- 
tion to the body, which arise out of the very nature of 
his residence, and which increase with the increase of his 
species ? Such causes exist in the various chemical, 
mechanical, and other forces, which are constantly act- 
ing on the globe, and among which man is to live and 
move ; and they may arise from the limited extent of the 
means of nourishment afforded by the earth, and must so 

44 



33$ The Wisdom of God in the 



arise whenever the race, by the supposition forever in- 
creasing, have so far outstripped these means as to impose 
the necessity of starvation somewhere. 

In the nature of things as at first constituted, therefore, 
we come to the necessity, either of a change in the bodily 
constitution of man and his system of life upon the earth, 
or of its non-continuance here to eternity. Either man 
must cease to be man, or the plan of continuing him and 
his constantly increasing species immortal on the earth 
must fail. In this way we reason respecting all the animal 
creation under man, that their immortality itself is out of 
the question : and, so far as man has an animal nature, I 
see not why the reasoning is not perfectly applicable in 
respect to his immortality on the earth. Nor do I see 
how the fall of man can be supposed to have any bearing 
upon this reasoning, or invalidate its force at all. For we 
are speaking now, simply respecting the necessity of a 
removal of man from the earth ; not of the mode of his 
removal. This might have been effected, had Adam and 
his race continued holy, at any moment by a super- 
natural change of the body and translation. 

But that a necessity of providing another state of being 
for the immortality of man, was founded originally in his 
animal constitution, I think is taught, in most explicit 
terms, by the apostle Paul, when assigning the reasons for 
a change in the body at the resurrection he says, that 
" flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God " — 
that " a corruptible body doth not inherit corruption " — 
that " Adam," referring here to the account of his crea- 
tion in Genesis, " was made a living soul " — drawing the 
breath of life like the animal creation, — i. <?., constituted 
by his Creator with a life in a natural body, that is animal 
and corruptible. And the history states that Adam was 
favored at the first with a tree of life, whose leaves he 
might apply to heat or invigorate a frame susceptible, in 
its nature and from surrounding forces, of injury or 
decay. 

But if we turn from a survey of man's animal nature, 
and consider his spiritual nature, the truth of our observa- 



Appointment of Temporal Death. 339 



tion will be still more apparent, — that it is necessary to 
provide for his immortal existence elsewhere than in this 
world. The essential facts, connected with his spiritual 
nature, are these : that he is subjected to a state of moral 
discipline and probation here, is held accountable to his 
Creator for his conduct, and is to reap the results of his 
trial during his subsequent immortality. 

The fact is indisputable, that the human species have 
always commenced their existence here under such an 
order of things as probation. Adam, the father of the 
race, did ; and all his posterity do now. Such an order- 
ing of things may be necessary — let such a nature at the 
outset commence acting, either in a holy manner, like 
Adam, or in a sinful manner, like his posterity — to its con- 
firmation in holiness, or to its recovery from sin. But, 
however that may be, such a plan of dealing with man's 
spiritual nature in this world is settled ; and, things being 
as they are, the question simply is, whether they do not 
give rise to the necessity of the removal of man. Now, 
on this plan of dealing with man, it is obvious, that there 
must be a close to the probation of each individual, by 
retribution in reward or punishment; that this cannot 
take place in the world, so long as the plan continues 
of making the world the trial-place for the species ; 
and that, to constitute it other than their trial-place, 
involves the necessity of the removal of a part or the 
whole of the race from the world ; i. e., the impossibility of 
their immortal existence on the earth. Each step in this 
process is so evident in itself, or so founded on that which 
precedes it, that there can be no doubt as to the conclu- 
sion. 

But let us review it. I said that there must be a 
close to the probation of each individual, by retribu- 
tion in punishment or reward. Is not this position, with 
which we begin, a self-evident truth ? The probation 
must come to a close, or be continued to eternity. But 
there is an absurdity in supposing a probation, which 
is to decide an eternal state, to be continued to eternity. 
That would destroy the eternity, for which the trial was 



34-0 The Wisdom of God in the 



designed. That would be equivalent to asserting, that 
a thing is designed for eternity, and is not designed for 
it, at the very same time : which is a contradiction in 
terms. But let us look at the particulars of the case. 

The probation of man, as now constituted, has refer- 
ence to the species as commencing their spiritual exist- 
ence and action in sin ; deserving punishment ; and receiv- 
ing the offers of redemption through Christ : — a probation, 
in favor of their repentance, which is to have its issues in 
eternal retribution. Nothing is plainer now, than that 
to continue those, who remain confirmed in impenitence 
and sin, forever amid the many undeserved privileges and 
blessings attendant on this state of trial, would prevent 
the eternal retribution of deserved punishment from tak- 
ing place ; and that, to continue the followers of Christ 
forever amid the imperfections, toils, struggles and sor- 
rows of this state of trial, would equally annihilate the 
result of an eternal retribution in the rewards of grace. 

Since then there must be a close to the probation of 
each individual of the race, at some time, by his entrance 
on the necessary results of rewards and punishments, we 
come to the next step in our reasoning : that this entrance 
of individuals upon eternal retribution cannot take place 
in this world, so long as the plan continues of making it 
the trial-place for the race. For if the race continues 
going forward in numbers, if new individuals are con- 
stantly coming forward upon probation, then, to continue 
the world still, as a trial-place for them, involves the 
necessity of continuing a system of providence, which is 
adapted to probation — a system, which distributes privi- 
leges and trials, blessings and chastisements, indiscrimi- 
nately to all, and which is inconsistent with a state of full 
retribution in rewards or punishments, to any who remain 
here. 

We come, then, in our next step, inevitably to the 
result, that it is impossible — on the present plan of provi- 
dence — to attach an immortal existence to the race on the 
earth. For as man must close his probation in retribu- 
tion, and, as this close cannot take place by continuing 



Appointment of Temporal Death. 341 

him on the earth, so long as this world is made the trial- 
place of his species, it follows that if his existence is con- 
tinued here, the world must cease to be a place of trial : 
but now there is no plan which can be adopted with the 
world, when it ceases to be the trial-place for man, which 
does not necessarily interfere with the possibility of con- 
tinuing the race upon it. ' 

The world at that era, we may suppose, may be entire- 
ly destroyed, or swept of all its inhabitants ; or it may be 
made the residence for a totally new order of beings ; or, 
if used for man, it must by the supposition be made a 
place of retribution. No other plan is conceivable. But, 
if the world is entirely destroyed, or entirely swept of its 
inhabitants, or made the residence of another order of 
beings, either plan would involve the entire removal of 
the race. Or, if made a place of retribution for man, it 
must be made, either a place of punishment for the lost, — 
and that would involve the necessity of removing the 
redeemed out of it ; or a place of reward for the redeem- 
ed, — and that would involve, by necessity, the removal of 
the lost. 

On every possible disposition of the world, therefore, 
removal in part or in whole is necessary. The contin- 
uance of the species here forever, is impossible. 

If then, there exists a necessity for the removal of man 
from this state, founded in his animal and spiritual nature, 
Ave inquire — 

TI. Whether this removal must not be effected, in the 
mode either of a supernatural change of body and trans- 
lation, or of death and a subsequent resurrection ? 

For it is obvious, in the first place, that the removal of 
the race to their scenes of residence in retribution, must 
be attended with some important change in their physical 
constitution, to adapt them to their new residence and 
their new condition. There are two reasons for this, both 
adverted to in revelation, which I would particularly 
notice. One is, that when mankind enters upon a state of 
retribution, there can be no propriety in the further 
increase of the species. For that would be to place new 



342 The Wisdom of God in the 



individuals, with their animal and spiritual nature, at the 
very commencement of their existence in opposite states 
and worlds of reward and punishment. 

But another and still more important reason for such a 
change, is that the body should be then fitted for an im- 
mortal and incorruptible state. 

Now, though the present physical constitution of man 
is too frail and perishable, and the subject of too many 
wants, for such a state, it does not follow, on the other 
hand, that in order to exist imperishably, man must be 
absolutely disembodied, and entirely divested of a physi- 
cal constitution. That, indeed, would leave no alterna- 
tive but simply temporal death. 

For a physical body, for aught that appears, may be 
composed of such materials, and constructed in such a 
manner, and placed in connection with such a world, as 
that, when animated and energized by a living spirit, it 
should be forever beyond the reach of any secondary 
causes of dissolution. And a body, — if constituted of ma- 
terials and held together by laws of life, which no chemi- 
cal or mechanical forces existing could destroy or crush, 
and, if dependent on no external materials for supply, or 
on none but such as are unlimited as light or space, — 
would be justly called strong and immortal, and be fitted 
for an endless existence. There would be no forces existing 
in the universe, adequate to its dissolution or destruction. 

If, then, the removal of man from probation to the scene 
of his retribution requires a change in his bodily consti- 
tution, or if, to use the terms of Scripture, " the natural 
body" which man has here is unfitted for the world of 
retribution, and he is to have, while resident there, a 
" spiritual body," then it follows, in the next place, that 
the removal of man to that state must be effected, either 
by means of an instantaneous supernatural change, or by 
means of death. 

For man comprises, in his constitution of being, a spirit 
in vital union with a body. And in order to be invested 
with a spiritual body — the body in which he enters on 
retribution, — there must be, either a severance of his 



Appointment of Temporal Death. 343 



spirit from the body, or there must not. If there is a 
severance from the body, then temporal death takes place ; 
and, in order to enter on the world of retribution, there 
must be a subsequent re-union to his body, made spir- 
itual — which is resurrection. But if there is not a sever- 
ance of his spirit from the body, and life continues, then, 
in order to enter on his eternal state with a spiritual body, 
it is necessary that, while the union of soul to body still 
continues, there should be an instantaneous and super- 
natural change in the composition and organization of 
the body itself, transforming it, as in the case of Elijah, 
from the natural into the spiritual. 

This is the only alternative which exists, and between 
which the choice lies as to a general and common plan of 
procedure, in respect to the removal of man from his 
present to his future and immortal state. 

We are prepared now to enter upon the consideration 
of the third and last observation, by which I would show 
the wisdom of God in appointing temporal death to our 
race. 

III. That in consequence of the sin of man, and the 
plan adopted for his redemption, death has many advan- 
tages, as a mode of removal, above that of a supernatural 
change. 

This observation is applied, not to every form of pro- 
bation, which might be supposed to be adopted with man, 
or to that which was originally adopted with Adam ; but 
to that which now exists — in which man commences his 
spiritual existence and action in sin, and is put on trial, 
with reference to recovery and redemption. Taking the 
facts of human probation as they are, the comparison 
turns on the application of the two possible modes of 
removal from the present state, and the bearings the)- 
respectively have on the existing and future state of man. 

Now, it must be conceded that the removal by death 
occasions pain more or less intense. In the separation of 
the body from the soul, there is necessarily involved the 
painful sensations which we call the pangs of death. Yet 
there is nothing else to render departure by death any 



344 The Wisdom of God in the 



more painful than departure by a sudden and miraculous 
change. For, b}^ the supposition, all other things remain 
the same ; and consequently, whatever other sources of 
painful emotion are attendant on departure out of this 
state of probation, besides the mere sensation of dying, 
must equally attach to either mode of departure. The 
trials of separation from the world and our kindred, and 
the emotions of the soul in entering on its future lot, — 
whether gathered from sin and the condemning power of 
the law, which now constitute the sting and venom of 
death, or from deliverance and joy granted through 
Christ, — must be essentially the same. By the appoint- 
ment of death, therefore, as the mode of removal, air the 
amount of evil, that is necessarily added to the endless 
existence of man, consists of the few pangs of sensation 
which attend it. 

4 

But even these pangs are probably counterbalanced by 
the superior joys attendant on a subsequent resurrection. 
This is indeed a conjecture : but a conjecture highly 
probable. All the analogies of the present state, which 
arise out of the greater pleasure received from the resto- 
ration of any gift after it is lost, than from its continued 
possession, strongly favor the supposition. These joys, 
if superior, are justly set off to counterbalance the animal 
pangs of death : for they are offered to all, in this state of 
probation, and they are the ultimate possession of all, 
who would not, on either method of removal, equally 
lose all future blessedness by an impenitent life. 

If, then, all the evils which necessarily attach to tem- 
poral death, are merely the short and momentary pangs 
of sensation which attend upon it, and if these even are 
counterbalanced to every individual, who would not 
equally lose the joys of immortality on either plan, it 
clearly follows, that it is wise and best to adopt that par- 
ticular plan of the two, which most favors the ends which 
God in his goodness is seeking to accomplish, in his dis- 
pensations to our race. Now that death is the plan which 
most favors those ends, is evident from the following con- 
siderations. 



Appointment of Temporal Death. 345 



I. Temporal death, by the pangs with which it ushers 
the race into their state of retribution, serves to remind the 
living, in a most affecting manner, of the eternal death 
which sin deserves. 

Since mankind are sinners, and the plan of divine good- 
ness towards them in this state of probation is, to favor their 
humility and repentance, and their resort to the Redeemer 
for pardon and life, it is surely most consonant to such a 
design, to give them in his providence some impressive tes- 
timonies to their ill desert ; to strew around them some 
striking tokens of the evil they have incurred, and from 
which they need deliverance ; to deal out to them some 
drops and prelibations from that cup of his wrath, which is 
hereafter to be poured out without mixture upon the heads 
of the wicked. This serves in this life the purposes of warn- 
ing, chastisement, correction. He has done this, to some 
extent, in the pains he calls us to experience in all our way 
in life. But what more impressive or more appropriate tes- 
timony could be given, than to place around the portals of 
our entrance into eternity the bitter pangs of death ? 
There is nothing witnessed or experienced in the present 
state, which so vividly represents to us the terrors of final 
ruin and punishment, as dying : — it is dying, and dying, yet 
never dead ! — nothing which so much attests that such a 
state awaits those, who refuse to yield to the spiritual influ- 
ences and salutary discipline of this life. Placed as these 
pangs are at the gate of eternity, through which we must 
inevitably pass, they cry out to us through this whole life, 
to fly in our guilt to the Redeemer for salvation, and shun 
the pangs of the second death — the eternal death of the soul. 

The prospect of death, indeed, may not be so pleasant 
to our feelings, as would be the idea of an easy transition 
into eternity by an instantaneous and miraculous change : 
but it is more conducive to our spiritual welfare ; better 
adapted, in conformity with the plan of God for our sal- 
vation, to keep us impressed with a sense of the great 
evil we deserve, — to keep us humble and lowly before 
God, and at the feet of our Redeemer, all the days of our 
appointed time until our change comes. 

45 



346 The Wisdom of God in the 



2. Again, death by separating the dead from our sight, 
serves to conceal from us a future state, and throw us on 
faith. 

The method of God's goodness toward us in this 
life, is to guide us by his word and by means of faith ; 
and, by imparting sufficient testimony about the future to 
serve us for motives of encouragement and strength, to 
make us mainly intent on our present duties ; and, by 
keeping us strictly to a temperate, sober and godly life, 
to train us up for holiness in his kingdom. Now it is 
well for this end, to throw us by his dispensations of prov- 
idence on faith, and to draw us intently to his word for 
our instruction, there to receive from his Spirit, his 
admonitions, reproofs, directions and counsel. Since 
then, it is the method of his Spirit to guide us to salvation 
by means pf his word, it cannot favor the design, to call 
back the dead to us to report to us their state and condi- 
tion. Neither can it, to have heaven and hell opened as 
it were to our sight, by the miraculous change of those 
around us, and their visible flight from us to their differ- 
ent abodes of joy and sorrow. We might, indeed, be 
greatly agitated to see a friend at our side suddenly 
transfigured into 'a form of glory, and with transports of 
joy on his countenance betokening his leave of us, as he 
ascended on a chariot of fire to the heavens. We might be 
greatly agitated to see another transformed into a body 
of darkness and shame, and to hear him pouring upon our 
ears the groans of perdition, as he was driven away from 
us by the breath of the Almighty. We might be greatly 
agitated, by looking thus over the borders of the eternal 
world, and seeing the eternal condition of our friends. 
But would these agitations of sight administer to our 
faith ? Would they send us, with greater anxiety, to the 
word of God for instruction, to receive from him the les- 
sons of life? Plainly, a providence which leaves the 
bodies of men with us at their departure, and conceals 
from sight their disembodied spirits, which sets the seal 
of death and the grave upon all the transactions of the 
future world, which bids us leave all our departed friends 
to God's keeping, and learn all our duty and welfare from 



Appointment of Temporal Death. 347 



his word— this is that which best serves to nourish in our 
hearts a filial faith and obedience, and to secure the end 
of our faith, the salvation of our souls. 

3. Again, death, by the causes which precede it, usually 
gives warning of our approaching removal from the 
world, and thus favors particular preparation. 

All we know of death is, that the union of the animat- 
ing soul with the body, depending on certain conditions 
of the body, ceases when, from any causes, those condi- 
tions are destroyed. This may take place from various 
causes ; but, according to the order of providence, it is a 
process by natural causes ; and the event is consonant, in 
this respect, to the general economy of events in the 
world. Its approach, therefore, is usually indicated by 
its causes, and the opportunity is presented — the warning 
given — for particular preparation. But this could not be, 
on a system of immediate change and translation. I am 
not prepared to state all the consequences of such a 
system, in which it might be said of every one, at his 
departure, that, like Enoch, he was not found, for God 
took him : but one thing is certain, that, suddenly, in a 
moment, in the twinkling of an eye, by the fiat of the 
Almighty, — as it will be true of those who survive at 
the sound of the last trump, — the friend now at our side, or 
the absent friend whom we were expecting to return, would 
exchange his mortal for an immortal clothing, and wing 
his way from the earth to his fixed abode for eternity. 

Now, if this were a perfect world, and every one in it 
were perfectly and constantly prepared in all his con- 
cerns, both temporal and spiritual, to leave it at any 
moment, it might not make so much difference, whether 
any warnings were introduced into it of approaching 
removal. But, imperfect and sinful as this world is, 
where so much is left at loose ends in temporal and spir- 
itual matters, where most are disposed to put off all pre- 
paration for eternity, and where those who think of 
preparation are so prone to forget it and be surprised, it is 
a mercy to the world and all that are in it, that there 
should be warning administered, to favor special prepara 



348 The Wisdom of God in the 



tion — that some intimations should be given beforehand 
that our departure is nigh — that some messenger should 
arrive before our removal, crying, ' Set thine house in 
order, for thou must depart.' Such a herald and fore- 
runner precedes death, in disease. His signals are seen 
in the emaciated form, the haggard eye, the hectic flush. 
His presence is felt, in the various pangs he administers 
by his touch. He withdraws men from the busy occupa- 
tions of life. He leads them into the chamber of retire- 
ment. He opens their ear to discipline, that they give up 
their transgressions ; that, on the borders of the eternal 
state, they prepare to leave the world with the least pos- 
sible injury to the interests or feelings of their fellow-men, 
by any neglect of duty to them, — with the least possible 
dishonor to God, which may arise from neglect of inter- 
course with him in prayer and faith. 

One consideration more only, I will add. 

4. That death, by reserving that which is supernatural 
in the change to the future, affords the opportunity for a 
more illustrious manifestation of the glory of God at the 
last day. 

On either plan of removal, the individuals of the race 
must be removed at successive periods of time, in order 
to provide room for their successive generations ; at least, 
until that day, when the world ceases to be the trial-place 
of man, and the race is to extend no further. But if the 
individuals of the race, successively, were transformed 
and translated to their respective places of retribution, 
the affairs of this world would end, simply in the co-tem- 
poraneous transformation and translation of the particular 
generation who were, at the time, on this stage of life. 
The general resurrection of all mankind from the dead, 
that most stupendous and impressive scene of God's 
power, could not take place. And the general summoning 
of mankind to a public judgment, though it were pos- 
sible, would not seem so consonant to the previous dis- 
pensation, which had placed all, with their spiritual and 
immortal bodies, in their abodes of full and perfect retri- 
bution. 



Appointment of Temporal Death. 349 



Now, if this world were a perfect world, and all its 
inhabitants passed from it into eternity without any 
grounds for impeachment of their conduct, or without 
any impeachments cast by them on the conduct of God, 
their Ruler ; if all mankind, and all other beings ac- 
quainted with them, were perfectly satisfied of rectitude 
in all the transactions of men, and of God towards them ; 
there might, indeed, be no occasion for a judicial trial, 
like that of the general judgment. But it is a sinful 
world. Complaints against men, and complaints against 
God, have been loud in it, and have been wafted, in sighs or 
curses, up to heaven through every generation. It is a 
divided world. Some have taken up the Lord's side, 
confessed the wrong, and justified God, and consented to 
accept and follow the Redeemer, whom he has sent, 
through much tribulation. Others have held out against 
the Lord and his Anointed, and opposed his friends, and 
hoped to triumph in their cause. There must then be a 
judicial trial and a settlement, in order to give peace to 
God's disturbed kingdom — to vindicate his character, and 
protect his trusting friends. Now, if it were possible to 
do this on the plan of the successive transformation of 
men, and their successive translation into the abodes of 
final retribution, it could not be so appropriately and so 
impressively done, as on the plan of removal by death. By 
such a removal, though men successively depart this life, 
they do not enter at once, with their spiritual bodies, on 
the full and complete glories or miseries of their final 
state. They are reserved for a day of open and final 
judgment. And when that day arrives, all will be in 
harmony and keeping with so important a transaction, and 
make an impression on every heart too deep for eternity 
to efface ! The Judge will descend in the clouds of 
heaven. The heralding trump of the archangel shall 
sound loud and wax stronger, till the very dead hear and 
awake from the dust of the earth. Before the Judge, now 
seated on his throne, shall be assembled all the nations of 
men. There will he make manifest to the assembled race 
and to a witnessing universe, that all his ways are equity 



350 The Wisdom of God in the 



and truth ; that his friends are worthy to receive the 
Almighty protection and blessing he is to extend to them ; 
that his enemies deserve the irrevocable curse, by which 
he is to consign them to the everlasting fires of vengeance. 
O ! on that morning of awakening from the dust of the 
earth, and witnessing such a process, what an eager atten- 
tion shall enchain every eye to the Judge ; what clear 
conviction burst in light on every conscience ; what deep 
emotions thrill through every heart ! How manifest on 
that day will be the power and the righteousness and the 
grace of the Saviour ! How will he be glorified and 
admired by all that have believed and trusted in him ! 
' Lo ! this is our God ! we have waited for him, and he 
has delivered us.' How will he silence all his enemies, 
and bring them to shame, when, stripped of all their pleas 
and complaints, they fall down before him, self-con- 
demned, speechless, and in despair ! 

Such are the considerations, which show us the wisdom 
of God in appointing temporal death to our race : that it 
is impossible, on the plan commenced with man, that he 
should possess an immortal existence upon the earth ; 
that his removal from this state, if necessary, must be 
effected in the mode, either of a supernatural change of 
bod) 7 or of death ; and that, in consequence of the sin of 
man, and the scheme of redemption established for his 
recovery, death, in its bearing on the present and future 
state of man, has several advantages in it, as a mode of 
removal, above that of a supernatural change ; — such as, 
by its pangs serving to impress on the living a sense of 
their ill-deserts ; by concealing from their view a future 
state, to throw them on the word of faith for their guid- 
ance ; by the warnings it gives, through its causes, of its 
approach, to favor their special preparation ; and, by 
reserving the restoration of the body by supernatural 
power to the future, to afford an opportunity for a more im- 
pressive manifestation, at the last, of the glory of God in 
his dealings with our race. 

The view we have now taken of death, as appointed by 
our Creator in wisdom, admits of a practical application ; 
with presenting which 1 will close. 



Appointment of Temporal Death. 351 



Is it appointed unto men to die ? Then, let every one 
make the application to himself: — ' I am included in this 
appointment of heaven. / too must die. I cannot live 
here always. I must depart hence into a scene of retri- 
bution. I cannot hope to depart like Elijah, in a chariot 
of fire. I must bear the pangs of death, and leave this 
body in the corrupting grave, not to resume it till the 
resurrection. Am I prepared for so great a change ? I 
must leave this my birth-place, the scene of my earliest 
joys and latest hopes. Have I idols here that I cannot 
forsake ? I must go through the shadows of death, into 
the presence of God. Have I chosen a portion in him 
and his heavenly kingdom, for which my heart pants ? 
My Creator tells me, I must die. Am I prepared ? Let 
the question be ever present till I can answer it with 
satisfaction. Am I prepared ? Let it follow me till I die. 
A m I prepared ? ' 

Again : is the appointment that men should die made 
by the Creator in wisdom ? ' Then I am not to repine, 
that such a lot has fallen to me, and to my friends around 
me. I must bow down at the feet of my Sovereign, and 
submit to the appointment, that I know and see to pro- 
ceed from his wisdom. I should fall in with its practical 
designs. Come, let me survey death ! I can see in it 
terrors, but they are the terrors of overshadowing mercy 
to the living. I can learn a lesson here, that nothing else 
this side eternity can impart. I see my ill-desert shad- 
owed forth in this emblem of the second death, and I fly 
to my Redeemer, who has the keys of death and hell, for 
my deliverance. Come, let me survey the dead ! They 
are stiff and cold in their last slumber. Their spirits 
have departed ! But where ? 1 see them not. If I call, 
they will not answer! Yet, amid this deep silence of the 
dead, I hear the voice of heavenly wisdom bid me, ' Go, 
search the Scriptures. In them ye have eternal life. 
They are they which testify of the world unseen, and of 
the way to reach its never ending joys.' Come, let me 
survey the doomed to death ! Disease is preying on his 
frame. His life is wasting away. His Lord has announced 



v 352 The Wisdom of God in the Appointment, etc. 



that he must now depart. These moments of lingering 
mercy are given, for the poor trembler to make his peace 
with man and God. Let me look at the triumphs of 
death in the world. He has borne every generation 
away to his shades ! He has peopled all his domains with 
his victims. But I will not quail before his power. I 
will not despair of the cause of God. I will wait, in hope, 
till the end shall come. Then shall the conquering 
Redeemer mount his chariot of glory. Then shall he 
appear a second time, bringing full salvation unto them 
that look for him, and trampling his foes in the dust. 

The appointment that men should die, is made by the 
Creator in wisdom. Then, if I concur with the designs of 
that wisdom, I am forever safe, forever happy. If I do 
not, I am not, and cannot be, either safe or truly happy.' 



WORSHIPING GOD IN THE BEAUTY OF 
HOLINESS. 



CHRONICLES XVI: 29— PSALMS XXIX: 2— XCVI : 9. 

Worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness. 

The Psalmist thus gave utterance to the feelings of a 
pious heart. In Jehovah, the God whom he worshiped, 
he saw a Being worthy of the religious homage of all. 
The joy he took in the honor of this infinite Being, in- 
spired the ardent desire to have others honor and serve him 
too ; and that desire was breathed forth in the imperative 
call: " Worship the Lord." 

Nor was he indifferent to the kind of worship which men 
offer, or the manner in which they pay their devotions to 
Jehovah. The spirit and manner of their devotion, he 
comprised in one word — holiness — the quality which char- 
acterizes the being and the ways of Jehovah himself, 
and which should characterize the persons and the offer- 
ings of his worshipers, if there is to be maintained, in the 
relation between the worshiped and the worshiping, the 
loveliness and beauty of unity and cordiality of feeling. 
For holiness is the crowning excellence of the Infinite 
One : — which sets him up, as the pattern of supreme love- 
liness and the fount of supreme joy to his intelligent and 
moral creation. Holiness, therefore, becometh the being, 
the presence, and the house of the Lord forever ; and 
they, who enter his house and come into his presence to 
pay him their offerings, must come with ' holiness to the 
Lord ' inscribed on their thoughts and feelings, if they 
would be appropriate and becoming in their devotions — 
if they would taste the loveliness and joy of pure and 
acceptable worship. 

The words of the Psalmist then present two thoughts, 
which claim our attention and obedient regard ; 

46 



354 Worshiping God in the Beauty of Holiness. 



I. One, That we worship God; and — 

II. The other, That our worship be characterized with 
the lovely and acceptable spirit of holiness. 

I. There is an imperative duty, binding on us all, to 
worship God. 

Think for a moment on this great subject, and, in pres- 
ence of the great Jehovah, whose creatures you are, ask 
yourselves whether you are not held fast, by righteous and 
most affecting obligations, to pay him supreme homage. 
There is a God in existence, an infinite Being, who presents 
himself before you in the glories of a perfect character. 
Is he not, though unseen, ever present with all — though 
unfelt, ever upholding all, — and by his works making 
known to all his eternal power and godhead, passing be- 
fore all in the glories of his righteousness and goodness 
and truth? Who then can be justified in confining his 
views to this world and his fellow-creatures ; as if there 
were no God in existence, and as if these glories of his 
character were all a blank and unmeaning void ? Who 
should not rather inquire diligently after him, and seek 
his presence, and bring him those offerings of reverence 
and respect that are due to his glorious name ? 

Again : This glorious Being is our Creator and King. 
Has he not interested his infinite heart in your welfare, 
by giving you a rational and moral existence, capable 
of communion in his love? and established a providence 
and moral government over you, to guide you to the 
sure and permanent sources of your happiness in him- 
self? In respect to his providence : — his fatherly hand, 
though unseen, is constantly presenting to you its free and 
bounteous gifts to attract you to his love, or administering 
to you the rod of necessary discipline to correct your 
faults. And shall you, in your constant dependence and 
wants, look alone to things in his creation for your sup- 
ply, in neglect of him, the ever living Fountain and Source 
of all ? Should not the constant care of his heart bring 
us rather to his presence with thankful acknowledgment 
of his care and love, and with the offering to him, in 
return, of our most devoted service? And in his moral 



Worshiping God in the Beauty of Holiness. 355 



government : — does not his voice, though unheard by the 
outward ear, whisper in your conscience of a law of love 
towards him and your fellow-creatures, which he guards 
with the authority of rewards and penalties? And does 
not that voice, once uttered aloud on Sinai, still prolong its 
fearful tones through revelation, in the command, " Thou 
shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou 
serve?" Will you then dash all the hopes and joys of 
your existence against the penalties of his government, by 
refusing him your homage, or will you reverence him as 
your Sovereign, and seek in your devotion to him the 
high and everlasting rewards of submission and obedience ? 
But again: This glorious Being, our Creator and 
King, being especially mindful of our deep necessities as 
sinners, is now offering himself to our acceptance as a 
Redeemer and Sanctifier. As a Redeemer, has he not 
done much for you in your sins to call you back to his 
presence? In the person of his Son, he has veiled the 
dazzling glories of the Godhead, that would consume us 
with their overpowering terrors, and has come nigh in the 
form of humanity, to seek us in our guilt with the sym- 
pathies of his heart, and to stand between the penalties 
of Heaventy Justice and our souls, that the lightnings of 
vengeance, which he could sustain, might strike on his 
person and leave us safe and unharmed in the arms of his 
forgiving mercy. And now, in the earthly sanctuary, he 
offers himself as the refuge and hiding place of the guilty, 
who would in him obtain reconciliation with God and 
eternal inheritance in his love and kingdom. Will you 
then withhold your hearts from the calls and offers of such 
mercy, to brave alone the penalties of Heavenly wrath ? 
Or will you accept that mercy with all joy, and, with the 
offerings of penitence, thankfulness, devotedness, bow 
down with heart-worship before the Lord your Redeemer? 
As a Sanctifier too, he meets you in the sanctuary of wor- 
ship, in the person of the Holy Spirit, who comes to 
enliven and bless with his presence the means of instruc- 
tion he has furnished, in his own inspired word, the 
sanctified talents of his living people and ministry, and 



356 Worshiping God in the Beauty of Holiness. 



the ordinances of prayer and praise he hath appointed 
for the utterance of the feelings of devotion. And while 
he is present to call sinners to repentance, and to train up 
believers in the holiness that is to fit them for his spiritual 
kingdom in eternity, will you refuse to come into his 
sanctifying presence and feel its power — will you neglect 
these only opportunities of salvation ? Or will you not 
rather cast in your lot with his people, will you not unite 
with them in seeking the grace that alone fits the soul for 
heavenly joy — in worshiping God the Spirit, in spirit 
and in truth — in worshiping this living source of holi- 
ness and salvation ? 

Are you not placed under bonds then from which you 
cannot escape, are you not held by cords of power you 
can never break — to worship God ? — bonds and cords of 
his own infinite excellence, his care of you as creatures in 
the use of his providence and authority, his mercy towards 
you as sinners, in Christ Jesus and through the Spirit of 
grace. 

But our obligation to worship God is not the only 
thought set before us in the exhortation of the Psalmist : 
we turn now to the other, that 

II. Our worship of God should be characterized with 
the lovely and acceptable spirit of holiness. This thought, 
the Psalmist sets before us in the concluding words of the 
text: "in the beauty of holiness."* This thought then 
I would now present more particularly to you, as claiming 
your practical regard, viz. that holiness is that quality, 
which constitutes the true excellence and beauty of di- 
vine worship : without which that worship is necessarily 
an offetose to a correct spiritual taste ; and by which that 

* I am not ignorant that some give to the closing Hebrew word the sense 
of sanctuary, as if the exhortation were intended to call the Jews to worship 
God in a certain place, rather than in a certain manner — in the beauteous 
tabernacle, rather than in the beauteous spirit of holiness. Yet, though it is 
capable of that rendering, and though that rendering is suggested by the 
translators of our common version in a marginal reading, I am satisfied with 
the sense they have preferred to give to it and have introduced into the text, — 
viz. holiness, — the quality that characterizes the worship offered. 



Worshiping God in the Beauty of Holiness. 357 



worship, whatever else is imperfect in it, is ever commend- 
ed to such a taste as lovely and acceptable. 

But before we consider this bearing of holiness on the 
excellence of divine worship, let us fix more precisely in 
our minds the idea of the moral quality denoted by the 
word holiness. The primary sense of the English word 
is that of wholeness, entireness, soundness, to which the 
Hebrew, corresponds, as consecrated — sacredly, entirely; — 
and it is applied not to the intellectual, but to the moral 
character; not to the understanding, but to the heart— 
the seat of the emotions and purposes ; in order to denote 
that purity of feeling, that integrity of purpose, which 
estimates things and treats them according to their worth 
and importance, and which especially regards as inviola- 
ble those rules of conduct, on which the welfare of intel- 
lectual and moral beings depends, such as truth, righteous- 
ness, charity. This wholeness of character, as the word 
means, considered as a voluntary state, is the devotion of 
the whole being to that which is morally good, and sep- 
aration from that which is morally evil. It is whole- 
souled piety towards God ; whole-souled charity towards 
man ; and whole-souled abhorrence of that which work- 
eth evil towards either. 

Now that this whole-hearted devotion is necessary, in 
order to render the worship of God truly excellent and 
acceptable, is conclusively proved by that sense of fitness 
and propriety, which inheres in our moral natures and 
which enables us to judge as to what is becoming and 
appropriate, in the relation of things one to another. 

Consider then, either the Being to be worshiped, the 
design for which his worship is established, or the particu- 
lar parts of service belonging to that worship ; and judge 
whether its true moral beauty and excellence depends not 
on holiness or whole-heartedness in the worshipers. 

Think then of the Being- approached in religious wor- 
ship : the Lord— or Jehovah — the eternal, immutable, and 
infinite — the all-knowing, the all-powerful, and most holy 
— the Creator and Ruler of all — the Redeemer and Sanc- 
tifier of his chosen. Love to the welfare of his moral 



358 Worshiping God in the Beauty of Holiness. 



creation occupies his whole heart ; concentrates his whole 
wisdom in counsel; sways his whole power in action; 
keeps him firm in his uncorrupt truth and righteousness; 
makes him strong to hate all iniquity and frown it away 
from his presence ; and renders him the fountain of eter- 
nal confidence, love, and joy to the kingdom, who in holy 
consecration yield themselves to him as his obedient peo- 
ple. How then shall we approach this Being? Who shall 
come into his presence with acceptance ? Who shall 
ascend his holy hill with the offering that is due to his 
name? Who unite his heart to the heart of Jehovah, in 
the loveliness of sincere unity, in the joy of pure com- 
munion ? 

Truly, there can be no pure and acceptable approach 
of one being to another, except on the basis of spiritual 
resemblance — unity in thought, feeling, action. For what 
agreement can pure benevolence have with supreme sel- 
fishness ; what communion, light with darkness ; what 
concord, Christ with Belial ? 

If then you approach the most high and holy, come 
with your whole mind and heart consecrated to him and 
his cause of righteousness and truth. Yield your whole 
souls in willing obedience to the control of this King of 
righteousness. Commit your whole being to the care of 
his redeeming and sanctifying grace. This will bring you 
into true and cordial union with him and his plans of 
righteousness and grace. This will render your reverent 
and humble communion with him, sweet and attractive 
to your own hearts, lovely and acceptable in the sight of 
men and angels, and accepted in the sight of God. For 
thus you withdraw yourselves from the vanities and 
pleasures, that set up their rival and idolatrous empire 
against God ; that debase and disappoint ; that fill with 
sin and wretchedness. You unite your hearts and sym- 
pathies to Him, who is the fount of eternal holiness and 
joy to his servants. You take your proper place before 
him, as humble, devoted, obedient children, that would 
forever be united to his excellence and loveliness, and 
would gather thence your eternal supplies of knowledge 



Worshiping God in the Beauty of Holiness. 359 



and love and joy. You worship him in the beauty and 
loveliness that pertains to his character, by sharing in 
that character in your own humble measure, and desiring 
to grow up into that character more and more forever. 

Consider, next, the design for which the public worship 
of God is instituted, and see how necessary it is to the 
fitness and excellence of that worship, that it be offered 
in holiness. 

The design of instituting public worship in our world, 
doubtless was to make it a means to a further end, to 
make its forms the means of paying our spiritual homage 
to God, and of aiding his spiritual dominion in our own 
hearts and in the hearts of others. So was it with the 
forms of worship, instituted in Israel through Moses. So 
is it with the simpler rites of worship, introduced into the 
Church of Christ through his apostles. The design was, 
that we might wait on God to honor him with the ex- 
pressed homage of reverence, submission, confidence, 
thankfulness, and joy ; and to obtain from him, for our- 
selves and others, the gifts of his instruction, correction, 
benediction, on our way to his eternal kingdom. It was 
that his people might honor him, as the Sum and Source 
of all Excellence, and be furnished by him unto every 
good word and work in his kingdom. 

How then can the public worship of God be truly 
excellent, and made, in accordance with its design, truly 
lovely and acceptable, except as it is offered in holiness ? 
The spirit of holiness renders the service truly a means of 
honoring God. For it is an honor to God that is due to his 
glorious character, that we accord to him the reverent 
adoration, the submission, the confidence, the joy of our 
hearts. And this honor is truly rendered to him by 
those, who come to him in the heart worship of a holy 
character, that beats, in its humble and imperfect meas- 
ure, in sympathy and unison with his character. For 
how shall the heart, that loves benevolence and purity and 
righteousness, look up to the infinite God, shining forth in 
the full glory of those perfections, otherwise than with 
emotions of supreme respect and reverence, that truly 



360 Worshiping God in the Beauty of Holiness. 



accord in devotion with the homage which the lips utter? 
How shall such a heart not feel the sweet and powerful 
ties, which bind its interests to his supreme throne, and 
give beauteous meaning and sincerity to the utterance of 
submission and confidence, — submitting all things cheer- 
fully to his dominion, and confiding all to his perfect care ? 
How shall not such a heart feel the preciousness of all its 
experience of his Almighty care, and utter pleasant songs 
of thankfulness ? And how, in looking up to the bound- 
less treasures of wisdom and love on which it now feasts, 
and hopes to feast forever as its inexhaustible portion, 
shall it not swell with rapturous joy, while saying, in sin- 
cerity and truth, unto God, ' Thou art my God, my portion, 
and strength forever?' 

The spirit of holiness in the worshipers also renders 
their service, according to its design, a means of obtain- 
ing, for themselves and others, spiritual blessings from God. 
For " them that honor God " in their worship, " he will 
honor ; and they that despise him shall be lightly esteem- 
ed." They that come before him as partakers in his own 
spirit of holiness and love, and that come, in accordance 
with the design of worship, to obtain grace to help them 
in their needs, make their appeal to a heart that loves the 
same cause as they, that loves it more intensely than they 
ever can, and that is ready to sympathize with them in 
their desires to have that cause advanced, in their own 
hearts, and in the hearts of their fellow-creatures. These 
shall, in their worship, receive the blessing from the 
Lord, and obtain righteousness from the God of their 
salvation. For they have clean hands and pure hearts, 
and lift not up their souls to vanity ; but, in the beauty of 
a pure trust and hope, wait on the God of their salvation 
for every good in this life and in that which is to come. 

If, then, you would appear before God in the spiritual 
beauty of the worship that honors him and secures his 
blessings, you must worship him in righteousness and 
true holiness. Otherwise, as you take the forms of honor- 
ing him on your lips, you will only mock him with heart- 
less ceremonies ; as you outwardly ask his blessing, you 
will inwardly provoke his curse. 



I 



Worshiping God in the Beauty of Holiness. 361 



Once again, I ask you to consider the parts of service, 
which engage our attention in the public worship of God, 
and to judge, whether the true excellence and beauty of 
that worship does not depend on the spirit of holy devo- 
tedness in the worshipers ? 

That worship, as appointed in the earthly Church, con- 
sists essentially, — under all the circumstantial differences 
of order, arrangement and manner, which it admits, — of the 
reading of the word of God, of instruction and exhorta- 
tion from that word by the living ministry, of address to 
God in prayer and song, and of benediction from the God 
of grace and salvation. 

How, then, will you wait on God in the public reading 
of his word f and in the dispensations of that word by the 
living ministry ? What is appropriate and acceptable ? 
What is unbecoming and offensive? One thing is clear, 
that, in these parts of the service, God draws nigh to men, 
to speak to them in tones of authority and mercy. For, 
however imperfect the voice of the human reader in utter- 
ing that word, or however inadequate the methods of the 
human preacher to set forth the full meaning of that word 
in his instructions,— whatever means and agencies inter- 
vene in this part of divine service between God and his 
worshipers, — yet the word read is his : the living, faith- 
ful ministry of that word is his ; he takes this method to 
come nigh to men ; to meet them in his sanctuary with 
reproof, counsel, correction, instruction in righteousness. 
He addresses them with the power of his invisible Spirit, 
and with words of truth and grace, on the great subjects 
of his glory and their welfare here and in the world to 
come. That still small voice from him that is enthroned 
over all, rises clear above all the human agencies in the 
scene, and bids every one that hath an ear, hearken to 
what the Spirit saith to the collected congregation. 
How, then, will you here meet God, on his throne of 
instruction? Would you turn away your face from the 
words and instructions of an earthly father? Would you 
sit listlessly, or compose yourself to sleep, before an 
earthly ruler, delivering to you precepts of authority ? 

47 



362 Worshiping God in the Beauty of Holiness. 



Would you amuse yourself with vain thoughts, when 
words of life and death to you hung on his lips ? Surely, 
the great Jehovah is despised, if you thus treat his 
instructions. The rude and insulting offense is given, 
that treats his presence and words of life as less valuable 
than the momentary indulgence of sloth or vanity or 
amusement. No: we are to turn our hearts to his words 
of instruction ; we are to feel that we are present before 
God ; and to say, each from the heart, ' I will hear what 
the Lord God shall say unto me. I will turn mine ears 
to instruction, and seek for my soul the way of life from 
God.' We are thus to meet God speaking to us through 
his word and ministry, in the spirit of attention and obe- 
dience, if we would act in a manner appropriate and 
becoming the service — if we would appear lovely and 
acceptable .before the God we worship. 

In addressing Jehovah in prayer and sacred song, how 
can our worship be appropriate and acceptable, unless 
offered in a spirit of holiness, with a mind and heart atten- 
tive to the honor of God and the spiritual welfare of his 
creatures? In approaching his throne of majesty with 
our adorations, confessions, petitions, intercessions and 
thanksgivings, whether in prayer or in song, we take 
upon ourselves to speak unto the Most High God : and 
before that throne is Jesus, the Mediator of the New 
Covenant, who hath died for us, the just for the unjust, 
that he might bring us nigh to that throne with accept- 
ance. However humble and imperfect the language in 
which we breathe out our thoughts and feelings to God ; 
yet the privilege is, in this part of service, extended to us 
most freely, to call on the name of the Lord, that we may 
be saved and obtain audience and favor with the God of 
our salvation. The throne of the Heavenly Majesty is 
nigh ; the way of approach is open and clear ; and even 
the sinful and unrighteous have a righteousness provided 
for them to shield them from wrath, when they come in 
faith, and fix their attention and hearts on the things of 
God. How, then, when his people meet him to breathe 
out their hearts before him, shall we treat rightly this 



Worshipifig God in the Beauty of Holiness. 363 



hearer of prayer and praise ? Would you turn away from 
the opportunity, to indulge in the idle doze, or to amuse 
yourself with companions as thoughtless as yourselves? 
Such neglect of the great Jehovah at the hour he meets 
you for audience, — how unbecoming and offensive must it 
appear to his eyes of purity, how unbecoming and offen- 
sive even to your own eyes, should they be once opened 
to see the reality ! But how appropriate and lovely is the 
sacrifice of prayer and praise, when, beyond the outward 
form, that a thoughtless mind might abuse, there lies deep 
in the heart the consciousness that God is present : and 
there ascend, from its inmost recesses, emotions that seek 
their true utterance in breathings of prayer and praise to 
his most holy name ! How lovely and acceptable before 
God, to treat him with whole-hearted devotedness, as our 
pardoning and covenant-keeping God, our Refuge and 
Friend in life's changes, our Saviour in death, and in the 
world to come; to say to him, as his people have ever 
done, " Forgive my iniquity ; uphold me with thy free 
Spirit; lead me into the land of uprightness; make me 
joyful in thy countenance ; and I will now and forever 
utter the memories of thy great goodness !" 

It is thus, and thus only, by true devotion in the house 
of God, that you are prepared, at the close of service, to 
receive, in all thankfulness, his high and hoi) 7 benediction. 
For while that closing service is performed, how unsuitable 
and offensive is the impatient hurry, the thoughtless noise, 
the vacant stare, that treat it as an unmeaning ceremony 
— that proclaims indifference to the great Jehovah, whether 
he utter a blessing or a curse. But how appropriate 
and lovely is the spirit of that whole-souled worshiper, 
who stands, in attentive silence, to hear God pronounce 
through his earthly servants his benediction ; who, as it 
is uttered, sends up to God the silent ejaculation, that it 
may fall and rest on his heart, ' Bless me, even me, O my 
Father !' 

If, then, you consider the essential parts of the divine 
service in their meaning; or the great design for which 
that worship has been instituted ; or the character of the 



364 Worshiping God in tJic Beauty of Holiness. 



Being - who is worshiped; is it not obvious that the true 
excellence and beauty of divine worship depends on its 
being offered in holiness? And when you consider the 
obligations that bind you to draw nigh to God in religious 
worship, is not the duty which the Psalmist proposes to 
you worthy of your thoughtful and obedient regard : 
" Worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness " ? 

There are two thoughts which I would suggest at con- 
cluding: that we keep our worship in the earthly sanc- 
tuary pure ; and that we here fix our hope on the glories 
of an eternal worship in heaven. 

Let us keep our worship in the earthly sanctuary pure. 
Here we now meet God on our way to the throne of 
judgment and the recompenses of eternity. We here halt 
from time to time on the way ; to refresh ourselves with 
joy in his .presence ; to gather strength to endure and 
overcome the trials and temptations incident to this pro- 
bationary state: and to quicken in our hearts that spir- 
itual life that fits the soul for heavenly rest. When 
coming before God on such an errand, with such interests 
dependent upon him, surely it becomes every one to draw 
nigh him in sincerity and truth. Let us, then, my friends, 
as we engage in the worship of God here, ever banish 
from us every unworthy thought and feeling, every dis- 
turbing care, all levity of manner and behavior, and wait 
upon him in all the loveliness of a serious, thoughtful, 
obedient and joyous faith. For surely it were a lovely 
spectacle — -the image of a heaven upon earth — to see 
those, who come up to the courts of the Lord, all realizing 
the presence and glory of the God that is worshiped ; 
according to him, from full and earnest hearts, the honor 
that is his due ; and seeking, in every part of the service, 
to obtain his heavenly grace on themselves and others ! 
Oh ! shall it ever be ? Shall there ever come from the 
Lord the day of power and glory, that shall set up that 
heavenly scene every where on the face of this now pol- 
luted world ? 

Finally, let us fix our hope on the glories of an eternal 
worship in heaven. That is a lovely and blessed world, 



Worshiping God in the Beauty of Holiness. 365 



where all hearts yield to God the honor and obedience 
that are his due, and pour out eternally their thanks and 
praises for his inexhaustible love and kindness. That is 
the land of uprightness ; where dwell the perfectly pure 
and devoted, whose vision of God grows eternally 
brighter, whose full-hearted love never droops, whose 
deep-toned praises never tire. Oh, shall we ever reach 
that blessed world ? Shall we ever mingle in its praises ? 
Let us give all diligence, in this our earthly pilgrimage, 
to make our calling and election sure. Let us now draw 
near the Lord, and learn here on earth to engage our 
hearts in those blessed employments. So shall an entrance 
at length be ministered unto us abundantly into that ever- 
lasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ ! 
So shall Cherubim and Seraphim bear us up to his pres- 
ence, to unite with their throngs and with all the hosts of 
the ransomed in the pure and glorious worship they ever 
offer at his throne ! 

Oh, shall we ever reach that blessed world ? Shall we 
ever mingle in its exalted praises? 



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